The complexities of friendship
by myrti
Summary: In the past Harry's friends have been a source of strength but is he about to discover that they're more trouble than they're worth? Now with extra Tonks! Builds to HarryGinny, RHr, Rated T (previously PG-13).
1. Summer equals Little Whinging

**Summary**:  
In the past Harry's friends have been a source of strength but he's about to discover that even the best friendships are rarely simple and hardly ever easy. Harry/Ginny, R/Hr, Rated T (previously PG-13).

**Disclaimer**: Places and characters belong to JK Rowling. I guess the words belong to me though. To avoid repeating myself I think we can assume that if I don't own Harry in the first chapter, I probably still won't own him in subsequent ones. If that situation changes, believe me, I'll let you know.

**A/N**: Although this is primarily a Harry/Ginny fic, I warn you now that they will not declare their love or jump on each other in a broom cupboard straight away - there are a couple of hints in the first few chapters but it builds up sloooowly. Having said that, I'm sure I've got enough other stuff going on to keep you entertained along the way. :)

**An A/N on re-posting**: Are any other authors out there a bit disconcerted that we now have to mark our work T (for Troll)? Anyway, for anyone who thinks this all sounds a bit familiar, no this is not a case of deja vu, I'm just re-posting. I originally starting writing this story back in July 2003 and started posting in March 04. Unfortunately I got to chapter 5 and ground to a halt. I wasn't very happy with it and couldn't for the life of me get chapter 6 out. Having gone away for a while & come back, I've re-jigged it a bit and am much happier. I hope you will be too.  
Unfortunately, as I'm re-posting I think I'm going to lose all my reviews so let me just quickly say a huge thank you to **AntoniaEast** and **angel** who reviewed on several occassions and without whom this fic would still have talking mist and an OTT Mrs W! Thanks to **tabula rasa2** who still holds the award for my longest review, and to **ZanyMuggle** who convinced me that being on the wrong side of 25 isn't so bad... My sincere thanks also go to **amhta29**, **Bug2buggie**, **Fancyeyes**, **Luisa**, **Jlatmil1**, **Cicatriz**, **GinervaPotter**, **May Liza** and **reading-rider** for all your words of encouragement. I don't know if any of you are still out there seems to have lost a lot of visitors recently), but I'd love to hear from you if you are.  
Okay, enough of that. On with the show...

**1. Summer Little Whinging.**

The sun shining on the large park at the back of Little Whinging Primary School made playing rugby a hot and sticky affair. Anyone could see that Dudley Dursley's immense bulk wasn't used to exercise in any form; in truth, was he was only playing because of his terrible GCSE results. From what Harry had overheard, he suspected that Smeltings had wanted to throw him out but Uncle Vernon had somehow managed to persuade them to let him stay to do one A-Level (Sports Science). There was a condition though; Dudley had to take up a team sport in addition to his boxing.

Faced with a choice between getting a job or complying, Dudley had started playing rugby. Presumably he had chosen it because it was the roughest game he could think of, as he certainly never seemed to enjoy it and the fact that he had been forced to endure his cousin's company seemed to aggravate the situation.

Harry assumed this was why his previous grudging civility (brought on by the threat of an even stricter diet should any abnormal or pink-haired people turn up on Uncle Vernon's pristine lawn) had descended to outright viciousness. Dudley had given up completely on huffing and puffing around the pitch, instead directing his friends Piers and Dennis to kick Harry hard in the shins whenever the opportunity arose, all pretence of a game having long since vanished.

Not that Harry minded. In recent summers he had been banished to (and sometimes locked in) his room, or else had been set to work pulling out weeds, mowing the lawn or doing any other menial task that his relatives had found to keep him miserable and out of their way.

At least today he was outside, away from Aunt Petunia's bony glare, and the effort required to prevent his shins from being bruised was keeping his mind off other things...

Harry had discovered weeks ago that thinking about the events of last term was more painful than he was ready for. That was why, when his godfather had been formally cleared of Peter Pettigrew's murder, Harry had refused to attend the memorial service Dumbledore had arranged. That was why, when the Headmaster had let it drop but said "we will discuss this further when you are feeling stronger", he had ignored the elderly wizard and banished the conversation to the deepest recesses of his mind. And that was why he'd spent the first month of the summer holidays doing anything and everything to distract himself in an attempt to stop his mind wandering. He'd found that physical exercise worked best and Harry was hopeful that by tonight he would be too exhausted to dream.

Piers and Dennis stopped to catch their breath and Harry made sure to keep a good distance away from them. He gazed around the park, which was full of people enjoying the rare spell of warm weather. There were skate-boarders using the wooden benches to perform tricks, families feeding the ducks and couples sitting lazily in the shade, seemingly oblivious to everyone else around them. A couple, no older than Harry, caught his eye and he found himself wondering what life must be like for Muggle boys who didn't have Voldemort to worry about. He wondered if the Weasleys were outside playing Quidditch in the paddock near The Burrow and if Ginny was still playing Seeker or had started practising her Chasing skills.

This moment of inattention cost him. Piers had sent the ball speeding towards him and it ricocheted painfully off Harry's thigh, rolling off the pitch towards the tennis court. In another life Piers would have made a good Beater, Harry decided. Knowing none of the others would bother, Harry went to retrieve the ball and was slowly making his way back, scuffing his worn trainers across the dry earth, when something about an elderly lady sat hunched over on one of the benches made him stop.

He glanced over at Dudley but the three boys were too busy standing in a huddle, smoking and pointing towards two girls on the other side of the pitch to notice Harry sit down on the other end of the bench.

"You missed a bit," he said quietly, still looking in the direction of his cousin.  
"Sorry, sonny?" the old lady croaked, straining to hear him.  
Harry didn't raise his voice.   
"You missed a bit. There's some pink sticking out behind your left ear."  
The woman swore, all hints of croakiness having disappeared from her voice.  
"I overslept this morning. Didn't have time to check the mirror." She closed her eyes tight and the offending hair turned as grey as the rest on her head.

Harry knew that Dumbledore wouldn't leave him unguarded outside Hogwarts and had made a sort of game out of spotting the various Aurors and Order members. Tonks was, for obvious reasons, the most difficult to spot but she always chatted to him if he found her so anyone who showed signs of clumsiness was viewed with particular suspicion. Today Harry's Seeker skills had paid off.

"Well, that's my cover blown. How's it going Harry?"  
"Okay, I guess. Any news?" Harry asked as he idly picked at a piece of green paint peeling off the bench seat.  
"Nothing I can tell you about," Tonks said. She started to grin. "I'm glad you found me though. I wanted to say happy birthday for tomorrow."  
"Thanks."  
Somehow Harry couldn't seem to get very excited about this. He'd never really celebrated his birthday and the one person he'd... Harry mentally shook himself.  
"And I'm going away for a while, so you might get the old fogey with no sense of humour following you for a bit."  
Harry smiled at Tonks' affectionate description of Mad-Eye Moody.  
"Where are you going?"  
"Abroad." Tonks's tone was still friendly but Harry knew there was no point asking her to elaborate. "Oh, and I've got a message for you too."  
"Really?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.  
"Yep. Apparently your post will be delayed but it's nothing to fret about," Tonks replied cryptically.  
"What does that mean?"  
Tonks smiled and shrugged, her woollen shawl falling off her shoulder. "No idea."

Harry was used to being kept in the dark by now and couldn't summon the energy to ponder on what it might mean. He squinted in the direction of his cousin, who was still trying to look cool and hadn't realised that Harry hadn't returned their ball.  
"I should probably head over before they notice me talking to strange old ladies," Harry said reluctantly.  
"Oi! Not so much of the old," Tonks objected. She winked. "See you when I get back."

Harry said goodbye then picked up the ball and crossed the pitch. When Dudley saw him coming Harry heard him start the now familiar story of the boy who went to St Brutus's in a voice loud enough for the girls to hear. In the past this might have upset him but today he dropped the ball near Piers's feet and wandered over to a quiet corner of the park.

He sat down at the foot of a large, shady tree and leaned back against its bark, running his fingers over the cool grass. He sighed, then got his latest letter out of his pocket. Hedwig had arrived just as he was going out and Harry hadn't had a chance to read it yet.

The letters he'd received over the last four weeks were just as devoid of real information as they had been the previous summer, but they arrived often enough to almost make up for it; Harry found himself writing at least one letter a day, even if it was only a line or two long. Strangely, Harry didn't recognise the rounded handwriting on this scroll, and unrolled it curiously.

Hi Harry, 

How's things? I hope you don't mind me writing; I thought you might like a break from that prat of a brother of mine (yes, I know - which one?) going on about how great a Keeper he is. He's bad enough normally but I swear that 'Weasley Is Our King' song went gone straight to his head. Just to even things out a bit, I scored FIVE times against him this afternoon. We're gonna get the Gryffindor cup for certain this year - even if Kirke and Sloper knock each other out every match! 

Anyway, congratulations on your OWLs. Hagrid was really proud all three of you got an "Outstanding" for Creatures. Ron's beginning to wish he hadn't done quite so well though - Mum's constantly asking him to go and speak to the ghoul about all the noise he's making these days. I don't think she realises just how many spiders there are lurking in our attic! Fred and George still refuse to believe he didn't forge his results - they keep complaining the standards are slipping because he passed his History of Magic exam. If they weren't so surprised I would have been convinced they'd helped him cheat somehow - I mean, who gets an "E" when they didn't even take notes? He claims it has something to do with comparing Giant Wars to chess but I think it was something about Hermione's handwriting that got his attention.

(Next to this was drawn a smiley face that winked at Harry occasionally.)

Speaking of Hermione, did she send you a postcard from Florence? The one that arrived here came in the Muggle post - you should have seen Dad's face when the postman knocked on the door to introduce himself. He must have thought we'd just moved in or something. 

I got a letter from Luna the other day too. She's in Sweden with her Dad. I haven't a clue if they found any Snork-Crumbly-thingies though - she wrote in Ancient Runes or something and there were all these wierd swirls around the edge of the paper. I'll get Hermione to translate it when I see her. Hopefully that shouldn't be too long - Ron and I are trying to persuade Dumbledore to let you both come over to stay very soon. 

Things have been fairly deserted around here; Mum and Dad are busy. Fleur proposed _again_ yesterday and it's put Bill in a quiet mood all week. He's obviously smitten so I don't know why he keeps saying no. 

The twins spend most of the day at the shop. I wanted to help out over the summer to earn a few extra Sickles but Mum said I had enough independent spirit already, whatever that's supposed to mean, so I wasn't allowed. It looks really good though - you'll have to go to Diagon Alley and see them. They're working on a new 'Colour Range' though, so don't touch anything they offer you that's green - it'll still be in the experimental stage. Dean had green eyelashes all last week, which he wasn't too pleased about - he couldn't play football in his local park without wearing his mum's mask of rara. I shouldn't laugh... 

Anyway, I hope your summer hasn't been too bad. Is Dudley still on that rabbit diet? I'll see if I can get Fred and George to bring home some Sugar Quills for you. 

Write back if you have the time. Hope to see you soon,  
Ginny.

Harry read Ginny's letter twice. He smiled. It was nice to hear from someone different for a change. Apart from those from Ron and Hermione, the only letters he'd received were one each from Lupin and Hagrid, and his OWL results a couple of weeks previously.

Harry had been momentarily paralysed when he thought about all the other students in his year opening their OWLs letters surrounded by their families. When he finally managed to unroll the parchment, Harry hadn't been surprised to learn that he had failed History, and was almost proud to have received a "Dreadful" in Divination. Other than that, he'd done quite well, getting "Outstanding" for both Defence and Care of Magical Creatures, four "Exceeds Expectations" in Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology and Charms, and an "Acceptable" in Astronomy.

Hermione had naturally received "O"s in all ten of her subjects and Harry suspected she might have broken several of the OWL records too. Ron's results hadn't been much different from Harry's, with the unexpected exception of his "E" in History of Magic. He had even told Harry he was now thinking of taking the subject at NEWT level. Just as Ginny had hinted, Harry suspected Ron's sudden change of heart had something to do with Hermione. It was one of the subjects she had expressed an interest in continuing.

Harry wasn't sure which subjects he was going to do for the next two years. Along with his disappointment at getting an "E" in Potions, (effectively ruling out the possibility of him becoming an Auror,) he felt a great deal of satisfaction from knowing that he would never be taught by Snape ever again, and always lost himself in a daydream where he told the Potions Master what he could do with his crystal phials whenever he thought about it.

In fact, he didn't even have to face the possibility of Dumbledore forcing him to resume their Occlumancy lessons. Now that Harry had grasped the fundamentals, the thing he needed to work on was the clearing-his-mind bit, which Tonks helped him with. Twice a week a lanky, rather awkward-looking boy, who bore some ressemblance to Ron, turned up at number 4 Privet Drive and together they went to Yoga classes at Little Whinging Leisure Centre. At first Harry had felt very self-conscious but _Ron's_ clumsiness attracted far more attention than he did (for a change) and he soon found that the stretching and breathing excercises had become habit, and that it was getting easier and easier to focus. He hadn't had a vision from Voldemort in weeks.

Harry looked up from the parchment and gazed across the sun-baked grass. To his surprise, he saw that the two girls Dudley had been pointing at earlier were now standing talking to him and Piers. Dennis was nowhere in sight. Harry wasn't sure whether to feel jealousy or pity. Deciding it was best to just ignore them, he started to read his letter again.

He smiled at Ginny's Quidditch antics with Ron. If there was one thing that he missed most of all during the summer, it was flying. He couldn't wait to climb back onto his Firebolt and soar into the air again. Harry remembered who had given him his prized possession and he was about to search for something to distract himself with when a shadow appeared over his parchment and Harry looked up to find Dudley standing over him.  
"We're going home," Dudley said simply before he turned to walk towards the park gates.

Sighing, Harry carefully stowed Ginny's letter in his pocket and started back towards Privet Drive, wondering what Ginny had done to the twins in return for Dean's green eyebrows.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

To be continued...

**In chapter 2:** An unusual birthday and Dudley suffers a... mishap.

A/N: Well, you probably know what I'm going to say now - I'd like to hear what you think so all comments, compliments and constructive criticisms are gratefully (anxiously!) received.  
Until the next chapter,  
myrtille et mure,  
xxx

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

written July 2003  
posted March 2004  
re-posted March 2005


	2. The birthday rule

**Warning**: The part of my brain that keeps telling me to grown up is now forcing me to warn you that this chapter contains under-age drinking. Whilst it would be hypocritical of me to tell you not to do such things, I'll happily say that peer pressure probably isn't a good reason to start.

**Brit A/N**: Please note that British Muggle money comes in pounds and pence (the latter abbreviated to just 'p'), and that 10p is about 15 Euro cents or just under 20 US cents.

**2: The birthday rule.**

Harry woke late the next day with a niggling feeling that there was something he was supposed to remember about today. The time - nearly quarter to ten - confused him too. Although Aunt Petunia had long since given up hammering on his door to order him to cook breakfast at 7am, she was staunchly opposed to laziness (Dudley excepted) and would usually _accidentally_ bang and clatter about loudly enough to wake him if he hadn't surfaced by eight-thirty.

Dressing quickly, Harry went downstairs, preparing to be subjected to _subtle_ hints that rising at this hour was unacceptable. However, when he reached the kitchen there was no-one there and the sight waiting for him brought on a sudden realisation.

Today was his birthday; his sixteenth birthday. The reason he was standing stock still in the kitchen was sitting on the table in the form of a parcel. Harry knew that Hedwig would never have delivered his post down here and none of his friends would use such hideous pink and green wrapping paper - not even the Weasley twins. This only left one alternative... The parcel had come from the Dursleys. Just to add to this revelation, judging by its size, whatever they had given him was not a coat-hanger, used tissue or pair of old socks.

Moving forward, Harry opened the card that lay on top of the parcel, which said:

_Tell those people we gave you something._

It wasn't signed but it was definitely his uncle's handwriting. Harry tore open the wrapping paper, intensely curious as to what they could possibly have deemed useless enough to give away.

Inside was a football. Not one of Dudley's cast-offs, not one found half-deflated and abandoned in the park, but a brand new football. They'd willingly spent money on a present for his birthday... Harry sat down in a daze.

Just as he thought he'd got over this, deciding he would make himself breakfast, he received another surprise. On opening the fridge door, Harry spotted a small chocolate muffin. It was still in its packaging, which showed that it was past its Best Before date and had been reduced to 10p. Balanced on top was a note, this time in Aunt Petunia's scrawl:

_We'll be out until 6pm. Don't mess up the house. _

It was hardly a loving birthday greeting, but already Harry counted this as his favourite birthday surprise. He may not have received 57 new high-tech toys and gadgets like Dudley (an improvement of 6 on the previous year) but, better than the football, and much better than the out-of-date cup cake, he wouldn't have to see the Dursleys for a whole day. Harry felt a brief pang of disappointment that Hedwig hadn't brought him anything from his friends but, remembering Tonks's cryptic message about his post being delayed, he set out to enjoy his day.

He first sat in Uncle Vernon's favourite large, comfy armchair in the living room and relished the power of being able to choose whatever he wanted to watch on TV, but after 10 minutes of flicking through the various daytime programmes Harry decided that maybe he wasn't missing much after all. Next, he picked up Dudley's joystick and proceeded to play on the very latest computer game, which Dudley had been given and hadn't had a chance to break yet, before an _ability to fly power boost_ reminded him of what he really wanted to be doing.

Harry systematically went round the house closing all the curtains. Once he was convinced that no-one could see him, he opened the cupboard under the stairs and brought out his Firebolt. Admittedly, flying his broom slowly up and down the hall and stairway wasn't as exciting as playing Quidditch but the thrill of knowing he was on a flying broomstick in his aunt and uncle's house almost made up for it.

He knew the neighbours (who were nearly as nosy as his aunt) would be suspicious if they spotted the curtains closed all day, though, so soon Harry began searching for other things to do.

He ate lunch, including the slightly stale muffin, then turned on Dudley's music system. Disregarding his cousin's dubious music taste, he turned on the Muggle radio as loud as he dared. Muggle music was nothing like the rare snippets of wizarding music he'd heard at The Burrow and the Yule Ball, but he found he quite liked it - especially someone called Blur, whoever he might be.

However, when some quieter music came on Harry's mind couldn't help but wander to the thing he'd been trying to avoid thinking about for the last month, and he switched the radio off quickly, deciding to take his birthday present to the park for a kick-about. Harry wasn't really a big football fan but he wanted to get out of the house and sport was always useful for wearing himself out. Besides, he thought the park would be a good place to pen his reply to Ginny and he might even call in at Mrs Figg's on the way home to see if his batty neighbour had any news of the wizarding world for him.

Although Harry didn't know any of the children in the park, they were young enough to not have been at school when he and Dudley were, so they had no qualms about asking him for a game, especially since they had no ball to play with.

Grateful for the distraction, Harry agreed and was surprised to learn when their game was over that it was half past five. The Dursleys would be home soon. Anxious not to upset his relatives when he'd had a half-decent birthday for a change, Harry started back towards Privet Drive, foregoing his visit to Mrs Figg.

During dinner Harry thanked the Dursleys for his present (which was met with an indistinguishable grunt from his uncle) and managed to deduce that Dudley had been taken out for the day on a shopping trip combined with a visit to the cinema. It wouldn't do for Dudley to start thinking that they actually cared about Harry, despite being forced to give him a present. The reasoning behind this latest display of Dudley's greed, it transpired, was that someone had invited Harry's overly-plump cousin to a party, although his vague replies when asked whose party it was made Harry suspicious. Unsurprisingly, his parents never pressed the matter.

Part of Aunt Petunia's reformed behaviour towards Harry consisted of making sure that Dudley included Harry in his activities. Dudley had, of course, protested but Mad-Eye Moody's little chat with Uncle Vernon had obviously deeply affected his aunt and she had insisted. After a while Dudley had come to realise that Harry didn't really want to spend time with him either and they seemed to come to an unspoken agreement: they would go wherever his aunt suggested but ignore each other when they got there, which suited them both just fine and ensured that neither were yelled at.

And so it was that on his sixteenth birthday, Harry was handed one of Dudley's old junior school shirts and told to get ready to go to a party.

The only parties Harry could ever remember going to were Dudley's 6th birthday party and Nearly-Headless Nick's Deathday party so he wasn't really sure what to expect and was actually relieved when, halfway down the street, Dudley told him that there was no party. He wouldn't say where they were going though - or why - but as they would have to show up at home together Harry didn't have much choice but to follow.

The two boys met up with Piers then strolled into the centre of town. Stopping outside a pub called The White Lion, Dudley turned to Harry.  
"If anyone asks you, you're eighteen," he said in a manner that told Harry he thought he sounded threatening. "We're meeting some friends and if you show us up we'll make you sorry. Got it?"  
Harry resisted the temptation to raise an eyebrow and simply nodded. He was curious. Firstly, he'd never been in a Muggle pub before and, secondly, Harry had thought that Piers and Dennis were Dudley's only friends in Little Whinging these days. Dudley wouldn't be making this much fuss for either of them. There was something about Dudley's behaviour too; if it had been anyone else, Harry would have said that he was nervous.

Whoever they were meeting hadn't arrived yet and as the three of them sat down at a table in the corner, Dudley turned and whispered something to Piers. Piers nodded and got up again to make his way towards the bar.

"We've decided that seeing as it's your birthday, we're going to treat you," Dudley announced.  
Now Harry _knew_ that there was something strange going on. Dudley obviously thought he looked very innocent but after years spent around Fred and George, Harry could have spotted his cousin's attempt at concealing mischief with his eyes closed. He decided to play along though.  
"That's nice of you. Thanks Dudley."  
His cousin's glee at apparently deceiving Harry was obvious, and his nod to Piers across the room was even more so.

Harry was about to ask what his treat might be when something caught his eye. Two girls had just walked into the pub, wearing clothes that barely covered the essentials and more make-up than all the girls at the Yule Ball put together.

Dudley turned round to see what Harry was staring at and spotting them he waved to get their attention. So _this_ was why he was nervous, Harry thought with amusement; Dudley Dursley had a date! As they approached Harry realised they were the girls from the park yesterday. Harry had to stop himself from grinning; he had a front row seat to watch his cousin try to chat up a girl. This was going to be fun.

Dudley didn't bother to introduce Harry but he said hello anyway. Both girls ignored him. Just as they sat down Piers appeared with a tray of drinks; three in pint glasses and two smaller ones. The amber-coloured drinks all looked the same except for one, which was slightly murky.

"There you go, Harry. Happy Birthday," said Dudley, handing Harry the murky drink. The others were taken by his friends, who then all turned to look at Harry.  
"Er, what is it?"  
Dudley laughed as if this was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.  
"Cider, of course." The two girls giggled. "Yours just, er, came out of the barrel first. That's why it's darker."  
Piers gave Dudley a badly disguised wink.  
"Go on then, drink it," Piers encouraged.  
"Yes, go on," one of the girls joined in.  
Harry now had a very bad feeling about this. If he hadn't known better, he'd have been suspicious that his cousin had been taking potions lessons from Snape in a conspiracy to poison him.  
"What are you waiting for? Look, we're drinking ours." Dudley picked up his own drink and took a sip, and the others copied him.  
It couldn't be that bad, Harry reasoned. He'd been drinking Butterbeer for years; surely this couldn't be that different. He took a gulp.

Although not entirely unpleasant, it was very sweet and Harry couldn't decide what it tasted of. It was almost like a bad mixture of several different drinks.  
"You don't know the rule, do you?" Dudley was still watching him.  
"Which rule?"  
"The birthday rule. When it's your birthday, if someone buys you a drink you have to down it in one go. Isn't that right, Piers?"  
Piers tore his eyes from the girl nearest him. "What? Yeah. In one go. It's the rule."

Harry wasn't that much of an idiot that he didn't realise they were trying to make a fool out of him in front of their dates, but for some strange reason he was tempted to do it anyway. It couldn't do that much harm, could it? This is what normal, Muggle teenagers did, and he wanted desperately to be normal. He wanted to get into _normal_ trouble for a change - rather than the sort which left you with nightmares and irreparable consequences.

He vaguely recalled over-hearing Hagrid telling someone about a wizard in the Three Broomsticks who had come in to _drink to forget_. Did that apply to Muggle drinks too? Was it like _obliviate_? Could he choose what he wanted to forget? It would be so much easier than having to censor his own thoughts a hundred times a day. Maybe the dreams would stop too.

Before Dudley could goad him any further, Harry had picked up his pint glass and was gulping down the contents. He got halfway through the liquid before the sweetness became too much and he had to stop. It was sickly and tasted like dishwater.

Harry looked over to find Dudley was staring at him open-mouthed. He seemed to recover and a grin appeared above his many chins. Harry hiccupped and his audience laughed. But there was something wrong with them. Or perhaps it was him? He began to feel dizzy and his eyelids seemed to grow heavier. None of the others seemed to be affected at all.

Harry wondered briefly if cider had the same effect on wizards that Butterbeer did on House-elves, but Dudley was still laughing in his ear and before this thought had time to develop, Harry turned and threw up on Dudley's brand new shoes.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

To be continued...

**In chapter 3:** Harry, Tonks and Lupin gather to discover Sirius' _Final Intentions_.

**A/N**: Hoorah. My first ever second chapter (if you see what I mean). Perhaps a bit short but the next chapter will be much longer. I may have mentioned this once or twice before, but feedback (be it comments, compliments or constructive criticism) is much appreciated so drop me a review!  
Until the next time,  
MyrtilleEtMure.  
xxx

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

written July 2003  
posted March 2004  
re-posted March 2005


	3. Intentions

_**From last time...**  
Harry wondered briefly if cider had the same effect on wizards that Butterbeer did on House-elves, but Dudley was still laughing in his ear and before this thought had time to develop, Harry turned and threw up on Dudley's brand new shoes. _

**3: Intentions.**

There were, it seems, advantages to having the Junior Heavyweight Inter-Schools Boxing Champion of the South-east in the family. Dudley's huge mass made it easy for him to drag Harry's stumbling form along Privet Drive. Once they had reached number four, Harry thought he heard Dudley say something about putting _spikes_ in his drink but his ears were ringing so he concentrated on staying upright and ignored his cousin.

Uncle Vernon must have been the one to let them in because as Harry passed the living room door he saw his Aunt talking to someone. Harry tried to concentrate on this person who, although slightly out of focus, looked vaguely familiar. Eventually, the image cleared and Harry made out his headmaster. But that didn't make sense. Unless he'd found out that Harry'd been drinking and was here to expel him. Harry's stomach didn't seem to like this idea and it shifted dangerously.

"I didn't touch any spikes, Professor, I promise," Harry suddenly blurted out.  
Harry saw Professor Dumbledore turn to examine him, but he looked more curious than angry.   
"Maybe this isn't the best time to discuss this, Harry," he said kindly. "I think a glass of water would be advisable."  
"You mean you're not here to expel me?" Harry's brain was finding this difficult to comprehend.   
"No, Harry. I was actually here to discuss your plans for the rest of the summer."  
"Oh." He wasn't expelled. What did Dumbledore say about the summer?  
"I thought that perhaps you might like to spend the rest of the summer at The Burrow?"  
"The Burrow?" Thinking was never normally this cloudy, was it? "Yes. Ron. I'd like that."  
"Ah, good." A wide smile crossed the elderly wizard's face. "Perhaps it would be wise to get some rest then. I'll send someone to pick you up tomorrow at eleven."  
Harry nodded, only to find that this movement set the room spinning.

"Professor," Harry asked, "do you know a spell for spikes?"  
Dumbledore looked amused for a moment before his air of wisdom returned.   
"Some wizards, Harry, find that, er - spikes - can often teach us a valuable lesson."   
He waved his wand and a large glass of water appeared.   
"Drink this then go to bed. I assure you, things will look better in the morning."

At the sight of magic being done in her home, Aunt Petunia had gone as white as a sheet. Dumbledore turned to her, unabashed.  
"Nice to see you again, Petunia. Do keep in touch. I'll show myself out."

x x x

Harry was dreaming. His vision was a little fuzzy, as if he were standing in mist, but he could make out Dumbledore standing in front of him. Harry tried to work out where they were. It wasn't the Great Hall and it wasn't the headmaster's office. It was a classroom. Dumbledore was teaching them something, but Harry couldn't make out what he was saying. It looked like Transfiguration, though, as the glasses of water on the desk kept changing into small spiky objects and back again.

Harry was still trying to work out what Dumbledore was saying when suddenly his vision and hearing came back, just in time to see words appear on the blackboard and hear Dumbledore read them aloud.

"_Your friends are rarely your enemies, and your enemies are rarely your friends. Now that is a very important lesson. _"

Even in his dream, Harry decided that Dumbledore's lesson had been pointless. If your friends are your friends then obviously they're not your enemies. And who treated their enemies as friends? It wasn't as if Harry regularly went to the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer with Voldemort.  
"Bloody stupid, if you ask me."  
Harry turned to see Ron sitting at the next desk and nodded in agreement. Ridiculous. The image went fuzzy again and disappeared as Harry woke up.

Harry's head was pounding and he automatically reached up to touch his forehead before he realised that it wasn't his scar that was hurting. The events of yesterday came flooding back, albeit with pieces missing.

The pub, ... those girls, ... the birthday drink, ...Dudley's shoes. Harry smiled; Dudley's shoes. Arriving home, ... someone in the living room, ... Professor Dumbledore. Harry groaned - what was it he'd said to his headmaster? He couldn't remember, but Dumbledore had told him something. Something about The Burrow... he was going to The Burrow... Harry was being picked up today at 11 o'clock to go to The Burrow for the rest of the summer.

Harry glanced at the clock on his bedside table; 8:48. His mouth felt awful; sort of dry but sticky. And the back of his throat was sore. Getting out of bed, Harry decided to brush his teeth before doing anything else.

x x x

Having managed to get dressed and force some toast into his gurgling stomach, Harry had gathered together his belongings and was now waiting for someone to arrive and take him far from Privet Drive, preferably before he had to face his cousin. Harry prayed that whoever it was would choose Muggle transport. Although he was desperate to get back onto his broom, he didn't think his rather fragile stomach would consent. As for the Floo network, well that didn't even bear thinking about.

When the clock read 10:56 Harry picked up the end of his trunk in one hand and Hedwig's empty cage in the other. By the time Harry had dragged his trunk to the bottom of the stairs he had already heard a car pull up and footsteps approaching. He opened the door to find Mr Weasley and Hermione about to ring the doorbell.

"Hrumph."  
Harry jumped and turned to see his uncle scowling behind him. Before Mr Weasley had a chance to say anything, Uncle Vernon had mumbled something that resembled _Goodbye_ and gone back into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

Mr Weasley was obviously in two minds as to whether or not he should go after him and cause a scene, but instead he turned to face Harry.  
"How are you, Harry? Had a nice summer?"  
"I'm fine. It was okay, thanks, Mr Weasley," Harry said, lying on both counts.  
"Well, why don't you hop in the car," Mr Weasley said, indicating a Ministry car on the drive, "and I'll get your trunk."

Hermione smiled by way of a greeting, although Harry thought she looked like she was trying to assess if he was about to break into a thousand pieces. She took his arm and started to lead him towards the car in the way you might help an elderly lady across the road. Harry wriggled free of her grasp.  
"Hermione, I'm fine. I'm not an _invalid_."  
"Sorry. I just... " She stopped and flung her arms around him. "I was just so worried. I'm sorry."

Her squeezing him wasn't doing much for Harry's delicate stomach and he thought he was in danger of seeing his breakfast reappear.  
"I'm fine, really. Well, no, I have a hangover, but -"  
This had the desired affect. Hermione pulled away sharply and looked at him, horror-struck.  
"A hangover?" she hissed quietly. "Harry, what on earth have you been doing? You shouldn't be drinking. It's illegal. What if Professor Dumbledore ever found out?"  
"Er, ... actually, he did." Harry couldn't help but smile. "He was here when I got home."  
"Come on you two, get in," Mr Weasley interrupted.

The trip to The Burrow was a little awkward, with Hermione flashing him disapproving looks every so often, but Mr Weasley's uninterrupted questions about all things Muggle passed the time. Hermione had just finished an explanation of what barcodes were for when they passed a sign announcing they had just entered Ottery St Catchpole.

Before they got out of the car, Hermione grabbed Harry's wrist to stop him.  
"Harry, you do know how silly it was, don't you?" she asked desperately.  
"I was sick," Harry admitted. "And then Dudley had to practically carry me home. Believe me, it's not something I'm going to do again in a hurry."  
Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry I snapped. We're just so worried about you, that's all."  
"Come on, let's go and see Ron," Harry said, changing the subject as he got out of the car.

Mrs Weasley saw him first and wrapped him in one of her hugs before asking how he was and leading him inside. Harry thought Ron looked strangely happy. Perhaps he was so used to people either scowling or worrying about him that it took time to adjust. He also could have sworn that Hermione gave him a subtle shake of the head. Maybe the drive over hadn't _entirely_ cured his hangover.

Ron greeted Harry enthusiastically and started on a lengthy description of the Chudley Cannons's pre-season warm-up match, which they had apparently almost won, despite losing 290 - 10. Harry was so glad to be away from Privet Drive that he didn't interrupt, letting Ron ramble on for nearly 10 minutes non-stop. Even Hermione only smiled and rolled her eyes at Harry.

When they sat down to lunch Harry was surprised how empty The Burrow was. Ron had already told him in one of his letters that Percy was on holiday. Apparently, he'd been suspended from his job pending another investigation. Harry remembered, with a certain amount of bitterness, the way Percy had acted at his Underage Magic hearing, and the letter he'd sent Ron, warning him away from his best friend. However, the Weasleys seemed to think that he might come back to The Burrow and apologise when his holiday ended, and Hermione appeared ready to forgive him too ("well, obviously he's being made Fudge's scape-goat," she'd pronounced authoritatively), so Harry kept his thoughts to himself.

Despite Percy's absence, he had expected a slightly better welcome than this.  
"Where is everyone?" he asked.  
"Well, Bill's on holiday in France, Fred and George are at the shop, and Ginny has a _special visitor_," Ron said, pulling a face.  
Hermione sighed. "What Ron means is Ginny's gone for a walk with Dean."  
"Dean's here?"  
"Yes, he came over for the day."  
"Oh right. So, how long have you been here, Hermione?"  
Hermione chose this moment to take a delicate sip of her pumpkin juice and Harry thought he could detect a hint of red appear on her cheeks, but dismissed it.  
"Just a few days," she said.  
"And, er, how are Fred and George doing?"  
Harry really wanted to know how their joke shop was going but wondered if this was the right thing to ask in front of Mrs Weasley. He was surprised when she answered.  
"We're very proud of them," she said, neatly folding the apron she'd been wearing and smoothing it out. "They've really been working hard. I would never have thought it, but their inventions are becoming quite a success, thanks to a certain _someone_."  
This last word was spoken with a smile directed at Harry as she added an extra large portion of mashed potato to his plate.  
"They'll be home this evening, no doubt with something new to show you all."

When the twins arrived they were in fact laden down with boxes full of their latest prank material. After dinner everyone took it in turns to be subjected to a Weasleys' Wizarding Wheeze, whilst Harry opened his birthday cards and presents. Only Dean (who seemed rather shy around Mr and Mrs Weasley) refused to take anything, claiming that his mum would ground him for life if he turned up with green eyelashes again.

Fred (or at least Harry thought it was Fred) eyed Dean suspiciously.  
"Anyone would think our products were dangerous the way he's carrying on."  
"Are you sure he's a Gryffindor?" George asked Ginny.  
"Oh for goodness sake. Give it here," Ginny said, reaching for the can of Hair-raising Hairspray that had been destined for Dean.  
To everyone's amusement, she endured an evening with lime green hair that stood up on end, which the twins proclaimed could only be out-done by Harry's naturally messy locks.

Fortunately, unlike Dean's green eyelashes, the effects wore off after only a few hours and, as he made his way up to bed, Harry realised that he had enjoyed himself so much that he had almost managed to forget about the one person that _wasn't_ there... Almost.

x x x

"I can't believe they haven't got any new brooms in _again_ this year," Ron complained.  
"At least we know Malfoy can't buy the Slytherins anything better than their Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones," Harry said.  
"I guess. Not that it did them any good before. They still didn't beat us did they? And this year it'll be even easier; you're back for starters and did I tell you I've been practising with Ginny? I reckon I'm loads better now than I was last year."  
Harry, remembering Ginny's letter, resisted the urge to smile.  
"So she hasn't got any past you then?" he asked innocently.  
"Oh. Well, maybe one or two," Ron admitted reluctantly. "But, you know, she's quite good too."  
"Hmm," Harry said non-commitally, biting his tongue to stop himself from laughing.

Harry's first morning back at The Burrow had dawned without a cloud in the sky so he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had decided to take advantage of the weather and were now sitting out in the garden. The girls had found a spot in the shade and were chatting just out of earshot, whilst Harry and Ron pored over the latest Quality Quidditch Supplies catalogue.

"Hey, look at this," Ron said, pointing to a picture of a rather nervous looking wizard on a broom. "_Invisible Stablisers for the timid and embarrassed_," he read. "_Still wobbling more than whooshing but don't want your friends to know? Try Invisible Stabilisers, new in-store this month, and see the difference that your friends won't._" He looked up from the catalogue. "D'you reckon they'd slow Malfoy down if we attached some to his broom whilst he wasn't looking?"

"Maybe," said a voice from behind them, "but not as much as Scratch-Resistant Itching Powder."  
Harry turned round to see the twins behind him.  
"Hi. How come you're not at the shop?" he asked.  
"Half day on Wednesdays," George said.  
"Yep, gotta save time for inventing new stuff. Have to stay a step ahead of the competition," Fred said sagely.  
"Speaking of which, what's your favourite colour, Harry?" George asked.  
"Why?"  
"We've out-grown green."  
"Yeah, people are starting to catch on. Not good for business."  
"Lee suggested animal themes, but Zonko's have just brought out Penguin Suits and we don't want people thinking we aren't original."  
Harry didn't think they were in any danger of that.  
"So, what's your favourite colour?"  
"Er..." Harry didn't really have a favourite colour but decided he should pick one anyway. "Red?"  
"Hmm," Fred said, rubbing his hands together and looking thoughtful. "A good Gryffindor colour, red."  
"Exactly," Harry said, as if that was what he'd been thinking all along.  
"What's wrong with Cannons Orange?" Ron asked.  
"Nah, we're saving that for something special," Fred said mysteriously as he and George started to retreat into the house.

"Well, if they're home it must be lunchtime," Ron announced, subconsciously rubbing his stomach.  
Hermione and Ginny were obviously thinking along the same lines as they came over to join them.  
"What do you think to having a picnic?" Hermione suggested.  
"Great, I'm starving," Ron told her.  
"Good, well you can help me make it then," Hermione said.  
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry but they both got up to follow her.  
"Oh, no, it's okay, Harry. It's only your first day back," Hermione told him. "I'm sure Ron and I can manage. Why don't you and Ginny stay out here?"  
Harry thought she was taking her over-protectiveness a bit far; what terrible fate was going to befall him in the Weasleys' kitchen? But she and Ron had already started towards the back door so he settled back down onto the grass next to Ginny.

For some reason she was scowling in the direction of the back door.  
"What's wrong?"  
Ginny's scowl disappeared instantly.  
"It's nothing. Listen, I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived yesterday. Dean doesn't get to come over often; his mum isn't a big fan of Fred and George's jokes."  
Harry shrugged. "That's okay."  
"It's just, I wouldn't want you to think that your friends are abandoning you or anything," she said earnestly.  
Harry frowned, puzzled.  
"Really, don't worry about it. I was just glad to get away from the Dursleys before I had to face Dudley."  
"Face Dudley? Why?" Ginny asked, and Harry told her about his birthday.  
"On his shoes?" Ginny said between bouts of laughter. "Brilliant aim."  
Harry smiled.  
"It wasn't a lot of fun at the time but it got him back for making me look like an idiot."  
"He really is an twit, isn't he?"  
"Yeah," Harry said, "but at least it's better than when we were younger."  
As soon as he'd said this, he wished he hadn't. She was bound to ask all sorts of embarrassing questions now about how he used to get bullied. To make matters worse, it appeared that the garden hadn't been de-gnomed for a while and Harry was sure he could see a pair of eyes watching him from behind a large shrub.

"And now you have to put up with Fred and George," she said, surprising him. "And Ron too. How many times has he mentioned his goalkeeping skills since you got here?"  
Harry laughed, all traces of self-consciousness fading away.  
"Only once so far."  
"Merlin's toes!" Ginny exclaimed, doing a fair impression of one of her mum's favourite expressions.  
They both laughed.

"Thanks for your letter, by the way," Harry said. "Sorry I didn't get round to replying."  
"If you had it would probably have arrived at the same time that you did. I wasn't really expecting you to anyway," she said, brushing it off.  
Harry was about to ask why she hadn't expected him to write back but Ron and Hermione came back out into the garden, joined by Fred and George. Hermione was carrying a red and white checked blanket, the twins were levitating cutlery, plates, glasses and a large jug, whilst Ron was struggling with a heavy picnic hamper.

"Lunch is served!" Fred announced.  
The twins must have Apparated back to Diagon Alley at some point as, in addition to a variety of food, there was also enough Butterbeer for them all. However, Harry decided that he wouldn't risk it after the events of his birthday.  
"So, Ginny," Ron said as he bent his long legs underneath himself to sit down on the blanket, "have you told Harry that we've been practising Quidditch?"  
Harry had just enough time to share a glance with Ginny before they both dissolved into fits of laughter.

After lunch the twins went to 'work their genius', as Fred put it, and Harry and Ginny took it in turns to test Ron's apparently improved Keeper's skills. Despite Ginny's teasing, Harry was pleased to see that Ron was almost as good as Wood now. He stopped all but one of Harry's attempts on 'goal' (which was actually an old bicycle wheel that was missing its spokes strung up in the trees) and even Ginny, who turned out to be a pretty good Chaser, could only get about half of her shots through.

It was a mark of how closely they were matched that Harry noticed Hermione sneaking glances at the game every so often, in spite of her insistance that she was far too busy reading up on next year's school material to watch.

However, as the afternoon progressed, a large, grey rain cloud moved in over-head then, without warning, suddenly began emptying its contents to a background of grumbling thunder and brilliant white lightening. All four of them ran to collect their lunch things and crowded through the back door, Ron slamming it shut after him as rain splattered against the glass pane.

"Ahh... I do love a good summer storm."  
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry heard Hermione exclaim.  
He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and saw that his headmaster was indeed stood in the Weasleys' kitchen.

"Good afternoon to you all," he said, before brandishing four letters in thick, cream-coloured parchment envelopes. "I do believe these belong to you."  
He handed out the letters and Harry saw that they were the usual instructions on when and where to catch the Hogwarts Express, and a book list for all the NEWTs subjects.  
"Does this mean you've found a new Defence teacher, then?" Harry asked, noting that the two Defence books were entitled '_Wielding Your Wand: Advanced Practical Solutions To Tackling Darkness_' and '_Unusual Uses For Common Curses_'.  
"Indeed I have, although I must warn you that I have been sworn to secrecy on the matter," he said, his eyes displaying a twinkling quality that Harry had only ever seen his headmaster perfect. "I am quite sure that you will approve though. Now then," he said as his mood became more somber and he turned to Harry, "I wonder if I might have a word?"  
"We'll go and get changed into something dry," Hermione said, leading Ron and Ginny up the stairs.

"Well, I hope you've recovered from the excitement of your birthday?" Dumbledore asked as he dried Harry's jeans and t-shirt with a swish of his wand.  
"Er, yes," Harry said, wondering if Dumbledore, having had the time to think about it, _was_ going to expel him for drinking after all.  
"Good, good. Well, shall we sit down?"  
Harry took a chair at the kitchen table and started to fiddle nervously with a soggy bread roll which had escaped the picnic basket.

"Harry, next week I must ask you to visit London," Dumbledore said, his bright blue eyes fixed on Harry.  
"Why?" he asked, not liking the pity he heard in Dumbledore's tone.  
"You understand that, when a person passes away, there is the matter of what will become of their possessions."  
"I don't want anything," Harry said, staring determinedly at a rain drop that was hanging precariously from the corner of the picnic blanket in front of him on the table.  
Dumbledore sighed.  
"I'm afraid that, as Sirius' closest legal kin, you are required to attend to witness - "  
"I don't want to go," Harry interrupted, not caring that he should be paying his headmaster more respect.  
"Harry, if I could make this any easier for you, believe me, I would." He sighed again. "I happen to believe that this will be good for you. Either way, unfortunately, there are some things that I simply have no control over. I'm sorry."

Harry thought that if he opened his mouth to speak again he would almost certainly lose control of the tears that were threatening to spring up in his eyes. He swallowed. The rain drop fell from the blanket onto Mrs Weasley's tiled floor.  
"I will return nearer the time to explain what will happen. You won't be expected to do anything," Dumbledore assured him quietly.  
Harry nodded.

After Dumbledore had left Harry sat and listened to the rain. It hammered on the windows, splashed in the pond and gurgled down the drainpipes. In the distance a car sloshed along a wet road. Harry felt disconnected from himself, as if he were watching his life from the outside. He decided that there was something contradictory about summer storms - the noise that was oddly soothing, the wetness in the warm air - he could see why Dumbldore liked them.

"Are you all right?" Harry heard Hermione ask cautiously from the doorway.  
"Fine. Dumbledore just asked me to go somewhere next week, that's all," he said, forcing himself back into reality and with as much cheer as he could scrape together.

"Wow, it's really chucking it down out there," Ron said. "Ginny, where did you put the Exploding Snap cards?"

x x x

Harry slept badly that night and when he woke for the third time, he actually found himself briefly wishing, as he listened to Ron's snoring, that he were back at Privet Drive with Dudley's distractions to wear him out. He Occluded his mind again and closed his eyes for the fourth time.

x x x

Time passed rather more quickly than Harry would have liked and before he knew it, he had already been at The Burrow for almost a week. Despite Hermione attempting to bring up the subject of his godfather on several occasions, his friends had mostly respected his need for some space but as the reading of Sirius' will approached Harry found his sleep becoming more and more troubled. He was tired and no matter how much false laughter he forced out of himself there was always an odd sense of foreboding that followed him around and threatened to let the reality, which he had so successfully blocked out for the first part of the summer, catch up with him.

Dumbledore appeared shortly after the dinner things had been cleared away one evening and asked to talk to him again. An all too familiar feeling of dread resurfaced inside him but he knew there was no avoiding what his headmaster wanted to speak to him about.

"How are you feeling about tomorrow, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as they sat down at the kitchen table with mugs of hot chocolate in front of them.  
"I just wish we could go now and get it over and done with," Harry mumbled, thinking for the hundredth time that he would rather not go at all. Why would he be interested in Sirius' will? If he couldn't have his godfather, he would rather try and forget that he had ever existed.  
"Ah yes, but sadly it will not be ready yet."  
"Couldn't you ask them to get it out early?"  
Dumbledore viewed him over the top of his half-moon spectacles.  
"This is not a Muggle will," he said softly. "There are similarities, of course, but we have found that wills can be forged, and must be constantly be re-written if they are to truly reflect our wishes."

Harry had been trying desperately not to think about this during the days since he had found out that he would have to attend and now that his assumptions had been shattered he didn't know what to think.

"Oh... so... what does a wizard will do?"  
"Magical wills are called Intentions. When a witch or wizard is born, a small amount of Essence of Intentions is taken from them."  
"You mean like taking blood? Don't they need it?"  
Dumbledore smiled kindly.

"In a similar way to blood, we all have enough intentions to last us a lifetime, maybe more. We have good intentions and bad. I myself have the intention to drink a cup of chamomile tea before I retire this evening. But it is not the intentions themselves which are extracted, merely a sort of side-effect. This substance enables us to find out the sort of intentions a person may have."

This new information brought up a wealth of questions in Harry's mind.  
"Couldn't you test it when they're born? I mean, couldn't you find out if they were going to be a bad person and keep an eye on them?"

"That would indeed be useful. However, aside from the ethical issues involved, sadly the Essence of Intentions cannot simply be read, and a single Final Intention cannot be produced until after death."

Harry had almost forgotten why they were talking about this subject in the first place, but now Sirius' face was plainly staring back at him inside his head.

"So... the Final Intention is like a will?" he asked quietly.  
"Yes, it is what the person would have decided at the moment they passed away, although we also have the ability to add ideas into the Intention. For example, if we discover a relative they never knew about, we can suggest that they consider them."  
"How do you add an idea in?" Harry asked, slightly apprehensively.  
"The Essence taken is only a very small sample. Upon learning of its being needed, the sample is cultivated so that it may grow. Just as plants react to such things as music and touch, the Essence of Intentions will react to anything you tell it. For this reason, only a few people are allowed access to the Intentions laboratories. And when the Essence has finally grown to such a size as an entire Intention may be gleaned from it, it is asked to Speak."

This was something of a shock to Harry.

"It speaks?"  
"In a manner, yes. You see, all of our intentions involve ourselves in some way - what we want or what we are going to do - so the Essence of Intentions produces an Impression of the person it was taken from, and it is this image that utters the Final Intention."  
"So I'll see Sirius?" Harry asked, not able to hide his excitement.  
"Not exactly. You will see an Impression of him."  
"Like in a magical photo?"  
"Sadly not. It is an impression of intention, whereas, if you wanted to draw a parallel, the photograph is an image of body and emotion. We cannot tell what the Impression will resemble, which is why I wanted to speak to you about this beforehand. It will be something associated with your godfather, of course, but it may be his appearance when he was a child, when he was most happy, or most sad. It varies from wizard to wizard."

Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly. "I don't want you to get your hopes up, Harry. Do you understand?"  
Harry nodded, deflated.  
"Very well." Dumbledore nodded. "Do you have any other questions before I go?"  
Harry shook his head and Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder as he stood up. "Someone will go with you tomorrow, and I suspect Remus and Tonks will be there too. I know this is difficult for you Harry, but remember we are all here for you if you need us."  
Harry nodded once more before Dumbledore Disapperated and Harry was left sitting in the kitchen with only a cold cup of hot chocolate for company, feeling numb.

x x x

The following morning everyone was walking on eggshells around Harry. In the end, he retreated to Ron's room to avoid them, and was relieved when Mrs Weasley knocked softly on the door to tell him it was time to go.

They Flooed to The Leaky Cauldron then walked along Diagon Alley. Fortunately it wasn't too busy and they soon turned into a side street where they stopped outside an old but respectable looking building with a sign outside pronouncing:

_Hemplestuffle and Himlock's - our Intention is to serve you best. Est. 1842._

As Harry stepped inside the small office he expected to see leather chairs and shelves of serious looking books. Instead, there was a room with a fireplace and a small wooden table with a row of mis-matched seats facing it. The man who greeted them was amiable but, with his white lab robes and mud smeared across his cheek, he looked more like a cross between a gardener and a mad scientist than the lawyer Harry had been expecting.

Feeling uneasy, Harry went to sit down in a green armchair whose fabric had started to fray on the arms. Lupin was already there, sitting next to Tonks, and Harry couldn't help but notice that his former Professor was looking particularly tired and drawn out. Tonks appearance today was rather more somber than usual; her hair was a dark shade of blue - almost black - instead of her habitual bubble gum pink. Lupin greeted Mrs Weasley and gave Harry what looked like an attempt at an encouraging smile. Harry tried to smile back but was relieved when the man at the front of the room finally cleared his throat to speak.

"Good morning. My name is Mr Himlock and, as I think we are all here, we may as well begin."  
At this, he turned and opened a cupboard behind him, bringing out a glass sphere a little larger than a football, which he placed on the wooden table. Next, he retrieved a small phial of something blue and metallic-looking, and a parchment and quill. He set down the parchment on the table and balanced the tip of the quill on it. Then, he poured the silvery-blue liquid into a small hole at the top of the sphere and tapped 3 times on the top, muttering under his breath. Then he stood back, looking expectantly at the sphere.

After a moment or two a light appeared inside the sphere. It suddenly flashed brighter then disappeared to reveal the image of a large black dog.

Harry felt a lump in his throat. The dog stood still for a while then started bounding around and chasing its own tail, barking wildly. After a short while the image suddenly flashed again and the sphere was empty.

Harry looked at the wizard at the front of the room.  
"An unregistered Animagus?" Mr Himlock muttered to himself.  
Harry watched him go to examine the parchment, which was blank, the quill balancing perfectly still on the top. He swallowed noticeably and shot a nervous glance in Lupin's direction.  
"Yes, well, er, ... Yes, that can happen sometimes with Animagi. Er, let me just ... "

Harry all of a sudden wished that he hadn't come. It was nice to see Padfoot again, but he didn't need Mr Himlock to tell him that it had all gone horribly wrong. Why was nothing in his life simple? He carefully avoided looking at any of the other occupants of the room. Mr Himlock had opened the cupboard again and taken out a glass jar, this time filled with a blue powder. He took a pinch and threw it into the fireplace, which immediately burst into blue flames.

"Ministry approved Intentions surveyor for Sirius Black," he announced clearly.  
After a moment, Dumbledore's head appeared in the flickering blue flames.  
"Hello?"  
"Ah, Albus Dumbledore, isn't it?"  
"Yes, that's right."  
"Good morning. Sorry to disturb you. My name's Mr Himlock of Hemplestuffle and Himlock's Intentions Laboratories. We were performing a Speaking and, er, came across a problem. It would appear that you are the most qualified person to act as Surveyor for a Mr Sirius Black. I wonder if you would mind?"

Dumbledore looked sad but nodded. "Hemplestuffle and Himlock's you said?"  
Moments later, the elderly wizard was stood in front of them and Mr Himlock was handing him a piece of parchment. He studied it for a moment then turned to Mrs Weasley.  
"May I ask in what capacity you are here today?"  
"Oh, no, I don't have a claim," she said, becoming a little flustered. "I'm just here with Harry. Should I leave?"  
Dumbledore smiled. "Not at all, please remain where you are." He asked Mr Himlock if there were any absent parties who had expressed an interest and when the younger wizard shook his head Dumbledore turned and stared out of the window, which had just morphed into a scene of rolling hills.

When Dumbledore came to face them again, Harry saw that he was smiling. He explained that he had been magically selected to decide what would happen to Sirius' possessions, and that they could object to any decisions he made.

"Are there any questions?" he asked.  
When there were not, he continued.  
"Nymphadora Tonks, you are entitled to any items you may wish to keep relating to your family, in particular any heirlooms which remain. Remus Lupin, you are entitled to take any possessions which you feel hold sentimental value to you, although it is my hope that you will do so in consultation with Harry. Mr Black's property, including any remaining possessions, will go to Harry Potter, with the condition that it remains in its current usage until Harry leaves school or has need of it. Any current occupants should also be allowed to remain until that time. The contents of vault 711 at Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley branch, will be split four ways, one quarter going to each of Remus, Tonks, Harry and the joint vault of the Weasley family."  
"I don't need the money," Harry interrupted, hardly realising that he was speaking aloud until it was too late.

Dumbledore came to stand in front of him.  
"My role here today is not to give you what you need, Harry, but to attempt to make the decisions Sirius would have made. I think this is what he would have wanted."

Mrs Weasley was shifting nervously in her seat like a school-girl about to be disciplined by her headmaster.  
"Professor Dumbledore, I really don't see why -"  
The elderly wizard dismissed her worries with a wave of his hand. "Molly, I know Sirius felt indebted to yourself and Arthur for fulfilling his god fatherly duties when he was not able, and without even being asked. Your presence here today is proof, not that it is needed, that you deserve this. I assure you that this is not intended as a payment, but as a gesture of thanks."  
Reluctantly, Mrs Weasley nodded.

"And finally," Dumbledore said cheerfully, "the portrait of Mrs Black hanging behind the curtains on the stairway at Mr Black's property is to be removed to Hogwarts. This concludes my interpretation of Intentions."

Seeing Harry's puzzled look at the mention of Mrs Black's painting, Dumbledore went on to explain that Magical Law was one of the few things that could effectively counter-act a Permanent Sticking Charm.

"I assure you that should you wish to have it I will happily return it to you."  
"No, no. That's fine," Harry hastened to reassure him. "You can keep it."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

To be continued...

**In chapter 4:** Ginny gives Harry a nudge in the right direction.

**A/N**: Hope you enjoyed my interpretation of a wizarding will... helpful reviews are always appreciated! If you'd like to be told when I update, please choose 'Author Alert' below.  
Until the next time,  
myrti  
xxx

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

written July 2003  
posted March 2004  
re-posted March 2005


	4. Moving on

**4: Moving on.**

When Harry and Mrs Weasley got back to The Burrow from Hemplestuffle and Himlock's the air seemed thick with anticipation. Harry could tell that everyone was curious about what had happened at the Speaking but no-one wanted to be the person to ask.

Ron had an unnatural smile on his face and Harry couldn't look at Hermione without seeing the pity that shone in her eyes.  
"Er... I think I'm going to go upstairs for a bit," Harry said quietly without bothering to make up an excuse.  
"Alright. I'll bring you up some lunch in a little while, dear," Mrs Weasley said as he slipped out of the room, trying to avoid looking anyone in the eye.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed that the Weasleys had made up for him in Ron's orange-coloured room. The walls' vibrancy glared at him and he found the Cannons players watching him intrusive; he closed his eyes, willing everything from the room's colour to Sirius' death to have been nothing more than a bad dream.

But it wasn't to be. Instead, he heard footfalls on the landing, followed by a gentle knocking.  
"Come in," he said, without any enthusiasm.  
Mrs Weasley entered and placed a plate of sandwiches and a glass of pumpkin juice on Ron's desk before she sat down on the bed next to Harry.  
Without warning she pulled him into a warm hug.  
"You poor thing," she said quietly. "How are you feeling?"  
Harry just shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it.  
"I know," she said soothingly. "You just remember that, red hair or not, you're still one of mine. If you need me, you come and find me, alright?"  
Harry managed a nod but didn't feel capable of anything else. He sat limply in her tight embrace. Normally, her hugs brought up all kinds of emotions in him - sadness, envy, joy, relief, embarrassment - but today he couldn't feel anything. It didn't reach him, as if there was an invisible barrier between him and the outside world and nothing could get in.

"Have something to eat then come and join us when you're ready," Mrs Weasley said as her hold on him loosened and disappeared. She got up and left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Harry in silence.

Having spent most of the summer trying to avoid thinking about Sirius, the Speaking of his Final Intention seemed to unleash all of Harry's unexplored thoughts and they now swam around in his head, unrelentingly. It was like someone was constantly screaming at him and he was forced to shut off everything else in the hope of stopping his head spinning.

But the thoughts kept coming, plaguing his every waking hour: images of Snape taunting his godfather for being a coward, Sirius battling to quiet his mother's screaming portrait or sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place looking gloomy as the Christmas holiday drew to a close, then falling... always falling.

Harry became more and more worn down as the week progressed. He gradually became closed off from his surroundings, going through the motions but hardly realising what he was doing, avoiding pointless small talk. He had tried to force himself to just snap out of it, but it wasn't as easy as it sounded.

He declined invitations to play chess and stopped agreeing to test Ron's Quidditch skills - he couldn't seem to enjoy either these days. He lost interest in Fred and George's jokes and, to Ron's alarm, didn't even object when Hermione started explaining that they should already be preparing for their NEWTs. He continued to eat, but only because Mrs Weasley never left him alone until he did. The nights were the worst; it was almost impossible for him to clear his mind with so many thoughts fighting for dominance and he'd occasionally felt snatches of emotions that were not his own. He found he usually slept restlessly for a few hours then gave up and ventured downstairs.

This was why the early hours of Tuesday morning, a week after the fiasco at Hemplestuffle and Himlock's, found him curled up in an armchair in his pyjamas. He was sitting in the living room at The Burrow in semi-darkness, the flickering light from the fireplace throwing shadows around the small room. He had brought down one of the Weasleys' worn but warm blankets as well as his photo album, which lay untouched at his side. As had become habit, he was staring into the flames, lost in thought, in guilt, in what-might-have-beens, whilst the rest of the house slept.

Harry had no idea how long Ginny had been sat in the other chair by the hearth before he noticed her. She hadn't said anything and was looking at him in the way Snape or Dumbledore did when using their Legilimency skills.

Everyone had tried being there for him; Mrs Weasley's hug was only the first of many attempts to get Harry to speak about his godfather. Dumbledore had brought him words of wisdom that Harry had barely listened to, Mrs Weasley had mothered him and the twins tried to cheer him up. Ron tried to be consoling in his own lets-ignore-it-and-everything-will-be-okay sort of way and Hermione, frustrated that Harry always spent his days alone and refused to open up to anyone, finally yelled at him that he couldn't go on like this before she burst into tears and had to be consoled herself. Bill had even made time to talk to him. However, the only person Harry thought might have understood what he was feeling was Lupin and Harry hadn't seen his former professor since the Speaking.

But by now Harry was fed up of their pity; he was fed up of the worried glances they shared and their quiet insistence that he needed to talk. He recognised that deep down he appreciated that they'd tried but no matter what they said, Sirius would still be gone.

Ginny still hadn't spoken and Harry realised that if he was ever going to be left to brood alone, he would have to say something.  
"Hi," he said flatly.  
"Hi, Harry." Ginny was wrapped in a large wooly night robe and her hair looked like she'd slept on it. she was speaking softly and didn't ask how he was, which he was relieved about. It was a stupid question and he always wondered why people bothered asking. They'd be horrified if he ever replied honestly. Harry avoided looking into Ginny's eyes; pity, useless pity.

"I know you probably don't want to talk to me," he heard Ginny say. "I just wanted to make sure that you know that if you do want to, I'm here. Or if you want to shout at someone, or ... or if you just need ... a shoulder to - you know ..."

She didn't move and was obviously waiting for him to say something. He didn't want anyone to talk to, or to shout at. He'd shouted at Dumbledore until he was hoarse the night Sirius had died and it hadn't helped. Didn't she think that if he thought it would, he would have done it by now? He wouldn't even know where to start. It would be too embarrassing. They wouldn't understand. Besides, they'd already done so much for him and he didn't want to bother them. He wanted to get rid of Ginny though - wanted to wallow in sadness without an audience - so he forced himself to look up.

To his surprise there was no pity in Ginny's eyes and no encouraging smile pinned to her face.  
"Thanks," he said mechanically.  
She still didn't move though. He tried to ignore her, staring into the fireplace. A log shifted, sending sparks fluttering into the grate.  
"Here."  
Harry looked back and saw that Ginny was holding out a quill and a roll of parchment.  
"What's this for?" he asked.  
She took a deep breath. "I know you don't feel like talking to anyone just yet, but there must be things you want to say." She paused and looked uncertain. "I thought you might want to write a letter t- to Sirius."  
"Sirius is dead," Harry snapped.  
"I know." Her voice was calm and gentle. Harry could feel anger building up inside him, but she didn't stop. "I admit that my attempts at keeping a diary weren't _entirely_ successful ..."  
Harry looked up. Ginny _never_ mentioned her experience with Tom Riddle. He noticed that she wore a sad smile.  
"... but it does help to put your feelings into words."

Harry's anger was threatening to break through but he forced himself to speak quietly - he didn't want to wake the whole household.  
"This isn't the same as some silly crush, you know." As soon as the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. "I'm sorry," he apologised. He hadn't meant to make light of Ginny's encounter with Voldemort; mentioning her former hero-worshipping was cruel.

She had blushed slightly but didn't show any other sign that she'd taken what he'd said to heart.  
"I know it's not the same but you might find it helps."  
Harry still hadn't taken the parchment she was holding out so she put it on the small table beside him, next to his photo album.  
"Come back to us, Harry."  
She got up, reached over and squeezed his shoulder briefly, then left the room. Harry heard her footsteps travel up the stairs and turned back to stare numbly into the fire, as if she had never been there.

The flames danced and crackled in front of him. Silence fell once again, save for the wind gently rustling in the trees. His eyes were sore with tiredness but he didn't sleep.

After a while Harry heard an owl hoot somewhere out in the darkness, stirring him out of his trance. He glanced around him and his eyes fell on Ginny's quill and parchment; the letter she wanted him to write.

Ginny's intentions had been good, Harry was sure, but he didn't see how writing a letter that could never receive a reply would help. He picked them up, intending to return them to their rightful owner. He would thank her but tell her that it really wasn't necessary. He would lie and assure her he was fine.

Harry looked down at the parchment and hesitated, his fingers playing with the soft, grey-feathered quill.

'_I HATE YOU_', he found himself writing, then '_I miss you_'. Once he had started, he couldn't stop, and all his emotions poured out onto the parchment, the quill moving quickly and steadily across its surface, covering both sides. All the things he'd wanted to say to Padfoot but never been given the chance, all his regrets, the injustice of it all: everything tumbled out in one long, incoherent sentence.

Before Harry knew it, he was empty. He felt dizzy and weak, and didn't even realise that there were tears streaming down his face until they dropped onto the parchment in his lap, smudging the wet ink. He was exhausted, feeling all the strain of the last few months weighing down on him.

He slowly unfolded from the armchair and bent to put the parchment he was holding into the fireplace. There were still just enough flames to turn it slowly into ash as Harry watched, the edges catching light, curling and slowly turning brown. When the letter had finally disappeared he wiped his eyes then dragged himself up the stairs to the room he was sharing with Ron. He no longer possessed the energy to even pull back the blankets and he fell onto the bed, sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks.

At breakfast the next day, Ron tried once again to talk him into going up to the Weasleys' plot of land to play Quidditch. This time, though, Harry agreed. Ron looked surprised but Hermione soon elbowed him to close his mouth.  
"Well, have fun," she said. "Ginny and I will be upstairs."  
Harry chanced a look at Ginny. She gave him a warm smile that he wasn't quite able to return yet.

Not surprisingly, Harry failed to get any of his apple 'Quaffles' through Ron's goal but it felt good to be outside again; to be flying again; to feel again. They landed to go back to The Burrow for lunch. As they made their way down the hill Harry was lost in his own world and Ron slowed to turn and look at him.  
"You alright, mate?" Ron asked.  
"Fine," Harry answered automatically.  
He wasn't, of course, but he thought, for the first time in a long while, that one day he might be.

o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o

To be continued...

**In chapter 5:** Bill has an announcement, Mrs Weasley weeps and Lupin makes an offer.

A/N: Well this is quite freaky... I first posted this chapter on my birthday last year. And now (purely by chance) I'm re-posting it on the day before my birthday this year. (Where are those de-aging potions when you need them?) I suppose I could have waited until tomorrow but I'm feeling impatient! ;) Hope you are too... thanks for reading!  
Until chapter 5,  
myrti xxx

o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o : o

written Summer 2003  
posted April 2004  
re-posted April 2005


	5. Tears and tombs

**5: Tears and tombs.**

When Harry woke the next morning the other bed in the room was empty and the sun was shining through Ron's faded orange curtains. He stretched leisurely and dressed for the day. Laying next to his camp bed, and on top of the photograph album that Hagrid had made for him, was a grey owl-feather quill. Harry picked it up and set off in search of the youngest Weasley. Harry hadn't really had a chance to speak to Ginny since the night she had advised him to write his letter.

As he entered the kitchen Harry fingered the quill in his pocket. She was sitting at the table surrounded by her school books and hadn't noticed him come in. Harry wanted to thank her but he felt a bit stupid. And ashamed. He'd been quite rude but she'd been patient with him, as if he was a misbehaving toddler who didn't really know any better.

Harry tried to form some words but his throat was dry and it came out sounding more like a grunt. Ginny turned round.  
"Hi Harry. Want some breakfast?"  
Harry cleared his throat. "Er, yes please."  
She smiled at him. "Well sit down then. Don't look so scared; Mum made it before she left so you don't have to try my cooking."  
"Oh, no, it's not that," Harry said.  
Harry felt a squirming in his stomach. What on earth did she think of him? He wished he could think of something intelligent to say. He stood again holding out the quill.  
"Here, this is yours. I meant to give it back sooner-"  
"Keep it. I've got loads," Ginny said with a wave of her hand. "Besides," she added with a grin, "every time you look at it you'll be reminded that Ginny Weasley is never wrong."  
"Thanks," Harry said sincerely. "But how do you know that I did what you suggested?"  
"Easy. This is the second day in a row you've woken up after Ron, and you know what a racket he makes getting ready."  
She was right. Harry hadn't slept as late in months; he supposed his body had been making up for lost time. Just then, the back door opened.  
"Finally!"  
The kitchen began to resemble the normal hustle and bustle that Harry usually associated with the Weasley household as Ron came in with Hermione and flopped into a chair.  
"Are you just having breakfast? I'm almost ready for lunch," Ron said as Harry helped himself to sausage and scrambled egg. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
"Well that's not really saying much is it Ron?"  
Ron shrugged.  
"I'm preparing. We have to take Quidditch practise seriously this year. I need my strength."  
Harry was struck with the idea that Ron would make a good Quidditch captain and wondered if he'd be allowed to take up the position given that he'd only been on the team for a year.

When Harry had finished his breakfast and cleared away his plate, and Ron had finished his Elevenses, they all went back outside. Ginny and Ron practised scoring and blocking whilst Hermione and Harry watched. Or at least Harry had started watching but soon Hermione caught him staring into thin air. He had been remembering the way Padfoot had chased cats all the way to the station last Christmas, Sirius' hearty laughs and the way Lupin playfully kept him in check. He remembered the happy smile his godfather wore in the photograph of his parents' wedding and the joy he'd felt when he discovered that Sirius was innocent. Harry hadn't realised that he'd taken out Ginny's quill and was twirling the feather between his thumb and forefinger until Hermione interrupted his reflections.

"Alright Harry?" She asked.  
Harry nodded. And this time it wasn't far from the truth.

x x x

Just a week later he was no longer brooding and Hermione and the Weasleys, for their part, had done their best to encourage him back into a normal routine. Very slowly, the reality that Sirius really had gone became a little less painful, a little easier to bear. But then, one evening, something happened to shatter all sense of normalcy.

Harry was looking for Ron. The red head had gone to fetch his Exploding Snap cards twenty minutes ago and hadn't come back. Figuring that his friend's stomach had once again got the better of him, Harry entered the kitchen and found, not Ron, but Mrs Weasley. There was a half-prepared dinner sitting on the table and she was in floods of tears. Harry's insides instantly turned cold.

"Oh, my baby," she mumbled lugubriously.  
"Mrs Weasley? Has something happened?" he asked, although he was afraid to hear her answer. He was reminded of the time when Ginny had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Feelings of guilt and dread that had been carefully tucked away began to resurface.  
"My little boy," she said, her breath hitching.  
Harry felt sick. "Has something happened to Ron?" he asked, his voice wavering.  
"No ... it's ... he's ..."  
"What's happened?" Harry asked urgently.  
"I'm not supposed to say," she said, sniffing, before hiding her face in her apron in a manner not vastly differing from Dobby's.

At this point Ron walked in. He was smiling and, shaking his head, he motioned for Harry to talk to him in the living room. Harry was reluctant to leave Mrs Weasley alone and in such a state but Ron's smile confused him.

"What is it? What's going on?"  
"It's Bill," Ron said, perching on the arm of the sofa.  
"What's wrong with him?"  
"Nothing," Ron laughed, "he's getting married."  
"Really?"  
"Yep. Fleur finally got him to say yes. Aparently she flew into a blinding rage when he said no again and that's how he knew for certain that it's her and not the Veela charms he likes. I forced Dad to tell me 'cos I thought he'd been attacked or something the way Mum's carrying on. He's making a big announcement tonight though, so look surprised, okay?"  
"Okay, but why's your mum so upset?"  
"Dunno," Ron shrugged. "Dad reckons she's just really happy or something."

Harry felt a wave of relief, then laughed suddenly. "Ron, I just realised, you asked your future sister-in-law to the Yule Ball."  
Ron coloured. "Yeah, well, whatever... Look, shut up, okay."  
Harry forced himself to stop laughing and noticed that Ron was watching him carefully.  
"What?"  
"Nothing. It's just... you're smiling," Ron said awkwardly.  
Harry nodded.  
Ron must have sensed Harry didn't want to say anything else because he grinned.  
"Hey, let's go and see if Fred and George know yet. They deserve to be teased for a change. Maybe we can get something out of them in exchange for a juicy bit of gossip."

Fleur arrived whilst they were upstairs, and she and Bill announced their engagement over dinner, setting Mrs Weasley off again.  
"Mum, don't start. You haven't even heard the best news yet."  
Mrs Weasley's eyes immediately snapped to Fleur's stomach but Bill just laughed.  
"Fleur obviously loves me as I am, long hair and all, so I've decided I'll never need to cut it now!"  
Mrs Weasley tried to look scandalised but the curve of her mouth meant that no-one was convinced.

x x x

As school was starting again in just less than a week the Weasley household was thrown into disarray. Thankfully, Mrs Weasley had already bought all their school supplies, but now they had an engagement party to organise. With Bill, Mr Weasley and the twins all at work, and Percy on holiday, Ginny was helping her mother cook mountains of food, Hermione was put in charge of writing invitations, and Ron and Harry were decorating the house and ridding the garden of gnomes.

By the time 31st August arrived everything was ready. The living room and garden were filled with coloured lanterns containing fire fairies and Mrs Weasley's kitchen smelt of the most wonderful pastries that Harry had ever tasted.

Some of Bill's old colleagues from Egypt had Apparated the previous day and were camping in the back garden using tents that were almost as big as The Burrow on the inside. Mrs Weasley had been casting cleaning charms all over the house and everyone was in good spirits (including the ghoul in the attic, much to Ron's dismay).

On the night itself, the couple's Diagon Alley colleagues were among the first to arrive.  
"Goblins can't stand people being late for anything," Bill had explained.  
"You've invited goblins?" Harry asked, surprised.  
"Merlin, no. They're renowned for being an anti-social bunch. Wouldn't come within a mile."

Soon Bill and Fleur's old school friends turned up, then Dumbledore. Various Order members including Tonks and Lupin turned up at different stages during the evening. Charlie managed to get a Portkey at the last minute and caused havoc by almost landing on Fleur's parents and little sister, who had arrived just moments before.

A whole crowd of the Weasleys' relatives, (easily identifiable by their vibrant red hair) came to join the celebrations. Harry was introduced to most of them but one stuck out in his mind. Mr Weasley's grandmother, Great Grandma Weasley, had apparently been affectionately called 'Greasey' ever since Bill, just starting to learn how to talk, had had difficulty pronouncing her full name.

Harry thought she must have been at least a hundred but he soon came to discover that she was anything but fragile. Her hair, which had presumably once been red, was now grey and her face was soft and smiling but she was almost as relentless as the twins when it came to pranks. Several people found their drinks suddenly tasting of pond weed and whenever she wanted to avoid talking to someone she pretended to be deaf until they gave up and went away. She also told jokes and stories endlessly, although she occasionally forgot the endings. Harry decided that this was definitely where Fred and George must have inherited their mischief genes from.

The only noticeable absence from the party was Percy. He was still on holiday and the twins were furious that he wasn't coming back for the celebrations, choosing to send Bill and Fleur a card instead. Mr Weasley didn't say anything, but Harry thought he looked disappointed.

Fortunately, he was kept busy handing out glasses of something that fizzed tunefully and had roped Harry and Ron into helping him. Once all the guests (excluding Harry, who decided he was sticking to pumpkin juice after the incident on his birthday) had a drink in their hand Mr Weasley called for their attention.

His speech was delivered rather nervously and included a long-winded joke about mothers-in-law. It was a Muggle joke and wasn't particularly funny to start with but he had confused the punch-line, making Hermione, Tonks and Harry laugh whilst the rest of the guests just looked on in confusion. Undeterred, Mr Weasley then made a surprisingly soppy toast to his eldest son and his fiancée.

Harry heard a sob from behind him and turned round to see that Mrs Weasley was teary yet again. This time she was joined by Madame Delacour who was daintily dabbing her eyes with a lacy handkerchief.

During the party Ron pestered Harry to retell the story of his night of drunkenness whilst Hermione stood behind them tutting disapprovingly and trying to hide a smile when Harry got to the bit about Dudley's shoes.

Harry watched Ginny across the room as someone who he had learnt was her Uncle Rudolph was repeatedly ruffling her hair. She was patently embarrassed and looked like she would rather be anywhere else. The twins, on the other hand, were in their element and had a crowd of cousins surrounding them looking at something in a green box until one of the cousins - a girl who looked about six years old - turned green from head to foot and Mrs Weasley banned all 'shop talk'.

As the evening wore on Harry was introduced to a group of Bill's friends from when he had attended Hogwarts. Although they seemed nice enough, a few had been in their first year when Harry's parents were still there and they looked at him with a mixture of curiosity, pity and wonderment, making Harry feel uncomfortable.

Escaping from the group with an excuse about handing out drinks, Harry caught up with Ron listening to tales about curses on Egyptian tombs.  
"... of course, we'd assumed that it was much older than that, so when the anti-Apparition wards kicked in we were stuck. I swear, me and Bob ran out of there as if we had Billywigs in our bellies."

Bill's best man Marvin was a short wizard with a slight Welsh accent who seemed to have met and defeated just about any dangerous creature or curse anyone could think of, although his methods were anything but conventional. If anyone had ever wondered who on earth discovered that Kappas will not attack if thrown a cucumber with your name carved into it, or that three-headed beasts fall asleep if you sing to them, they could safety assume that it had something to do with Marvin.

He'd just started a new story ("Well, you see," Marvin said, "it all started because I'd had a green curry the night before...") and Harry was enjoying himself so much that he didn't notice Lupin approaching until he tapped him on the shoulder.

Harry hadn't seen Lupin since the Speaking and he secretly hoped that his godfather's old school friend would stay as quiet as Mrs Weasley on the subject. Like the Weasleys, it was obvious that Lupin didn't have a vault full of gold, and Harry was embarrassed to think that his own pile of Galleons had increased even further, at the expense of his former Professor.

Lupin had obviously dressed up for the occasion and Harry suspected that he was wearing the nicest robes he owned. However, up close he looked as worn down as he had the previous week; he clearly hadn't taken his friend's death any better than Harry had. On top of this, he looked nervous. Harry wasn't used to seeing this expression on his former Professor's face and he began wondering the best way to explain that he knew Lupin needed Sirius' money more than he did.

"How are you? Are you enjoying the party?" Lupin asked.  
"Yes thanks, Professor."  
Lupin frowned slightly, a sadness shining in his eyes.  
"You know, Harry, you really don't have to call me that any more. You could call me Remus if you liked," he said quietly.  
With the room full of people chatting away Harry almost couldn't hear him.  
"Oh... Okay, thanks."  
He smiled. "Good. I'm glad because I wanted to talk to you about something. You see... I was good friends with Sirius, and with your Dad ... well, and Lily too ..."  
Lupin frowned again but Harry nodded his head and he continued.  
"I know I wasn't your Dad's best friend, and I'm not your godfather, and you'll be of age in a year, and, well, you've got plenty of people looking after you already... It's not like I'd really have much to offer you either..."   
Lupin apparently realised he was rambling and chuckled nervously before taking a deep breath, which he let out again.

"The thing is, Harry," he said, almost in a whisper, "I know I can't replace James or Sirius but I've lost Sirius twice now and I loved James like a brother, so if anyone understands what you're feeling, I think I might."  
Having got this far, Lupin seemed to regain his confidence and his voice strengthened.  
"I just wanted to say that if you ever need anything or if you want to speak to someone about your parents - or anything else - I would like it if you felt you could come to me."  
Lupin deflated a little and looked down at the empty glass in his hand.  
"I know I should have said this sooner. I loved Sirius and was being selfish wanting to grieve him alone. I should have been there to support you, but I want to make it up to you ... if you'd like."  
He looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry was overwhelmed. No-one had ever really offered him an opportunity like this before. Inside, he was more grateful than he could imagine and wanted to tell Lupin how much it meant to him but it was as if there was something stuck in his throat and he could manage no more than an awkward nod.  
A shy smile appeared on Lupin's face.

"Hey Remus, come and meet Sandra," Bill shouted from across the room.  
Harry and Lupin's eyes met for a moment before the older man gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and left to join Bill.

When Harry turned away he noticed that Ron had been watching him and decided to slip away upstairs before he was asked to explain their conversation.

**o o o o o o o o o o o o o**

To be continued...

**In chapter 6:** It's back to school but Harry's developed a bit of a rebellious streak when it comes to a certain professor.

**Author's note**: well, there I was feeling all unloved... until I realised I'd _twice_ posted just before a review black-out. As a yellow person once said: 'Doh!'

**o o o o o o o o o o o o o**

Written summer 2003  
Posted 31 July 2004 (Happy birthday Harry!)  
Re-posted April 2005


	6. Just another manic Monday

Additional **disclaimer**: 'Just another manic Monday' is the title of a song by The Bangles.

**6: Just another manic Monday**

Having gone to bed early the previous evening, Harry had already started making breakfast for everyone by the time Mrs Weasley's slipper-clad feet entered the kitchen and as a consequence most of the household had finished eating by 8am. However, this didn't prevent the annual mad rush to get Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry ready to catch the Hogwarts Express.

Ginny was having particular problems finding her socks and Hermione was sent into a rare panic when she couldn't find her new Arithmancy book. It was finally located down the side of an armchair where it had undoubtedly fallen when she had dozed off one evening.

Harry, who had distracted himself by finishing all his homework before arriving at The Burrow, had the easiest time so helped Ron by following behind him and picking up items which fell out of his long, over-laden arms.

x

The crowd that went to see them off was much reduced compared to normal. Bill had still not surfaced from the previous night's celebrations and Mr Weasley had been called into work. The twins accompanied them to platform 9 3/4 but then said goodbye and disappeared amongst the crowds in the name of market research.

Harry waved down the platform to Seamus but carefully avoided Neville, who was holding his Mimbulus mimbletonia close to his chest and looked like he was on the receiving end of some sort of speech from his formidable Gran. Harry managed to find the empty compartment that Ron and Hermione, as NEWT-level prefects, had been able to reserve for them all.

To Hermione's surprise, but not Ron's, Ginny hadn't been made a prefect and she and Dean came in soon after Harry had collapsed into one of the seats.

Although Harry knew that Ginny used to go out with Michael Corner, and that Dean had come to visit her during the summer, he had never really seen her with either of them. It was stupid, Harry knew, but he wondered if he ought to act differently around them, or maybe go somewhere else so that they could kiss in private?

Dean looked as uncomfortable as Harry felt, asking how the rest of his summer had been whilst frequently glancing at a scratch in the table between them. Ginny, however, was just as outgoing as normal - or at least as outgoing as Harry had seen her once she'd stopped hiding from him. Still, Harry was grateful when Neville and Seamus appeared at the compartment door and Ginny got up to look for her friends.

Seamus dropped carelessly into the spot next to Dean but Neville took great care in reverently setting his Mimbulus mimbletonia on the table between them before sitting down.

"Hi Neville. How're you doing? That plant of yours looks like it's had a bit of a growth spurt," Dean said.

Neville, who had been looking a little miserable, nodded and perked up.

"Three inches in the last two months. _And _it's growing a bud. Look, just there," he said excitedly pointing to the centre of the plant. "I reckon it's ready to flower any day now."

Remembering what happened last time Neville had shown him one of the plant's features Harry made sure to keep his distance. When he looked, though, he saw that nestled in amongst the plant's grey boils there was indeed a small purple bud.

"Well, you must be doing something right. What are you feeding it, Fire Whiskey?" Seamus joked.

"Er, actually, I got this special formula from Ahh Gardens," Neville admitted.

"Ahh Gardens?" Harry asked.

"It's the wizarding section of Kew Gardens," Neville explained. "My Great Uncle Algie took me for... you know, passing my OWLs," Neville said, blushing furiously.

"Cool," Dean said. "So what did you get?"

"Um. I failed Potions and Astronomy, so I got seven."

"How'd you do in Herbology?" Harry asked.

If it was possible, Neville's blush deepened. "I got an 'O'."

"Excellent. See, who needs foul smelling Potions?" Dean said

"Did you see the results in the Prophet?" Seamus asked. "'Course, Ravenclaw did the best but Snape's lot got the highest Potions results. Slimy, biased git. I bet he gave them all the answers beforehand."

"Yeah, but you didn't mention the best bit," Dean said. "Gryffindors rule at Defence. _One hundred percent _pass rate. Even Lupin never got that."

"Well, he did have Fred and George in his class," Harry pointed out.

x

The food cart had already come and gone by the time Ron and Hermione joined them. Unusually, Ron didn't complain about being hungry, although he accepted the chocolate frogs Harry offered him gratefully.

They both unwrapped their frogs and out of habit Harry inspected the accompanying card.

"Hey, look!" Harry held up the card in his hand for Ron to inspect. "I've got Agrippa!"

"Yeah?" Ron asked half-heartedly.

Harry smiled. "Here, have it. I know you've been looking for him for ages," he said, holding out the card.

"Nah, it's okay. You keep it. I'm not bothering to collect them any more."

"What?" For as long as he had known Ron, his friend had been collecting chocolate frog cards and, for as long as he had known him, he'd been searching in vain for Agrippa to complete his collection.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nah, I just got bored of them. The chocolate's still good though," he said and he demonstrated by starting to unwrap another from the pile in front of Harry.

Harry was convinced that Ron was just unwilling to accept something from him and he gave his friend a questioning look. Ron sighed.

"I've just grown up a bit, I guess," he told Harry, shrugging. "I'm sixteen. I can't collect chocolate frog cards all my life can I? It's a bit sad," he said, looking between his two friends.

For some reason, Harry felt hurt. He'd already grown up more than he wanted and he didn't much like the idea of things changing. He knew it was silly to make a big deal about chocolate frog cards though, and dropped the subject.

The train rattled through the countryside whilst Seamus told them all about a girl he'd met on holiday back in Ireland. Ron was giving Dean sidelong glances and Harry had a horrible feeling that he was about to say something about how Dean had better not talk about his sister like that. Fortunately Hermione started to tell a story about the artisan wizards she'd studied during her trip to Italy. Harry and Ron, who were used to Hermione's occasional enthusiastic ramblings didn't mind too much but Seamus soon looked like he'd lost interest (or possibly even the will to live) and when Hermione paused for breath he turned to Harry.

"So, mate, did you do anything this summer?"

"Um, well, I don't really go on holiday but I stayed with Ron for a few weeks. Did he tell you his brother's marrying Fleur?"

"That pretty French girl from the Tri-wizard Tournament?"

"Yep."

"Didn't you ask her to the Yule Ball, Ron?" Dean asked.

Ron's ears pinked. "Not my fault," he mumbled. "She's a Veela."

x

Rather inevitably, Draco Malfoy sauntered into their compartment whilst Harry and Ron were in the middle of a game of chess. He was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who were looking as surly as ever. Hermione was the first to react.

"What d'you want, Malfoy?" she asked in a business-like tone, her chin held high.

"Well, certainly not to talk to filth like you," Draco drawled.

Harry saw her reach across, effectively blocking Ron's path with her arm.

"So? What then?" Ron asked impatiently.

Draco smirked. "I'm just here to pass on a message," he said, seemingly enjoying that he had their attention.

"Well?" Ron asked.

Draco ignored him and looked straight at Harry with a malicious grin.

"Kreacher has asked me to send his regards - oh - and his _condolences_of course."

Draco's grin widened as he obviously anticipated the reaction this would bring. Harry couldn't be bothered though and he turned to stare out of the train window.

"Thanks. You can go now."

There was a moment's silence before Harry heard the compartment door close with a bang and Ron start to laugh.

"Oh, Harry," he gasped, "you should have seen his face. I've never seen him so angry. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Classic."

Hermione and the rest of Harry's dorm-mates were not laughing though. They were looking at Harry as if he were about to cry, or at least start a furious tirade about Draco.

"I think it's your move, Ron," Harry said and Ron wiped a tear of laughter from his eye before contemplating their chess game again.

Harry was somewhat distracted and lost a further two games as the scenery sped by their window.

x

The train finally arrived at its destination and the students scrambled to get out onto the platform. To Harry's joy, the first voice he heard as he left the train was a familiar shout of "firs'-years... firs'-years over here!"

"Hagrid!" Harry shouted over the crowds.

The half-giant turned, a wide smile peeking through his beard, and gave a wave.

Harry felt relief flooding through him; some things, at least, were as they should be.

Weaving in and out of first years, trunks and familiars, Harry climbed into one of the waiting carriages, doing his best not to look at the Thestrals. He noticed Dean and Seamus getting into another with Ginny and a couple of her friends. Ron was oddly quiet.

"You okay, mate?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Ron said distractedly. Harry was about to drop it when Ron suddenly said very quickly "Don't you think Dean's been a bit funny this year? I mean, what was all that about Fleur? So what if I asked her to the Ball? It's like he's trying to stir up trouble. I'm not sure Ginny should be with someone like that."

Harry smiled as he remembered that he'd made exactly the same comment about Fleur when Ron had told him about the wedding.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. There's nothing wrong with him," Hermione said. "Besides, Ginny's old enough to make up her own mind."

His best friend had a tendency to be rather overprotective, Harry decided, and it wasn't as if Dean was a Slytherin or someone like that Zacharias Smith. Anyway, Ginny was quite capable of sticking up for herself. In fact, he reflected as they arrived at the main entrance, if Ron carried on thinking like that Hermione would be the only thing preventing him from a severe case of Bat Bogeys this term.

x

Soon everyone was settled into their seats in The Great Hall waiting for the Sorting. McGonagall brought the new students in, still hobbling slightly and leaning on her walking stick. She set up the stool and after a typical Sorting Hat song full of the now usual warnings Archer, Robin was called forward.

Half way through the line of students, Hermione whispered "You know, I think we ought to help do something about the houses this year."

"What about them?" Ron whispered back as everyone clapped and Madison, Elvin joined the Ravenclaw table.

"About uniting them."

"How are you going to do that?" Harry asked as a mousy haired girl knocked over the Sorting Hat's stool in her excitement.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll think of something."

"Yeah, well, as long as we don't have to go round wearing badges with H.U.R.L. on them..." Ron muttered.

"Hurl?" Hermione asked.

"It's not _Hurl_," Ron said in a voice that Harry thought was supposed to be an imitation of Hermione's, "it's H.U. R. L - Houses United to Ruin Lord... well, you know who."

Whatever Hermione might have been about to say in reply was cut short as the Sorting ended. Once the last nervous first year had been accepted into Hufflepuff and taken his seat the golden plates in front of them filled with food and everyone tucked in enthusiastically.

"So," Hermione asked as they helped themselves to dessert, "have you made up your mind what you're studying this year yet, Harry?"

"Do you have to bring up the subject of lessons whilst we're eating?" Ron asked around mouthfuls of cream cake.

"I wasn't even asking you," Hermione replied.

"Yeah but I can hear, can't I?" Ron said, cream now smeared across his top lip.

Hermione rolled his eyes, which could equally have been directed at his comment or his eating habits.

"I was thinking I'd take Defence and Magical Creatures, seeing as how I got good marks at OWL," Harry started before they could begin bickering. "And then I figured Charms and Transfiguration."

"Charms are always useful," Hermione said appreciatively.

Ron, who had not chosen the subject, huffed but thankfully their attention was drawn to the Head table where Dumbledore had stood to address the school.

The elderly wizard seemed happy to have his school full of students again and gave out his announcements with his usual helping of warmth and gentle teasing. Harry looked along the row of teachers sat at the head table. He spared a moment to glare at his most hated professor, Snape, who was sweeping the hall with his eyes, picking out those who weren't paying attention. Harry found that his ill-feelings towards the Potions Master had not diminished and an angry bubble of bitterness swelled inside him. Snape's eyes fell on Harry and he looked away.

"Needless to say, there is good reason that The Forbidden Forest has not had its name changed," Dumbledore was saying.

There was an empty seat next to Snape that was presumably reserved for the sixth Defence teacher in as many years. On Dumbledore's other side Firenze was chatting to Hagrid. Harry noticed that the Centaur was actually standing rather than sitting behind the table. Harry wondered if he had been able to go back to the forest yet or if he had stayed in the castle all summer.

"And now to a rather special announcement," Dumbledore said. "Every seven years we like to gather the school for a photograph to commemorate your time here at Hogwarts and I am glad to say that this happy time has come around again this year. The photographer will be visiting the school in early October."

This caused an excited buzz to start in the Great Hall as students turned to chat to their neighbours.

Harry remembered his school photo days at Little Whinging Primary School. More often than not Dudley would_ accidentally_ pour paint in his hair or he would be at the centre of some unwitting incident that would leave him looking like an idiot at exactly the wrong moment.

On the occasions when he was left alone his baggy old clothes and broken glasses had made him self-conscious enough to dread the day the school photographer came. Not that he ever got to see the resulting photos, mind you. Aunt Petunia purchased pictures of her little Duddikins to place in every room of number 4 Privet Drive and to send to Aunt Marge but it was never thought necessary to remind themselves that Harry existed. Harry forced these memories out of his mind and heard the end of Dumbledore's comments.

"Quidditch try-outs will take place later this week and available positions will be posted on your House notice boards. I hope that we will see many of you taking part."

Dumbledore allowed the school a moment to digest this information before continuing.

"And finally, before I send you to your dorms I would like to assure you that, despite the vacant position at our table, you will most certainly have someone to teach your Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. Now, off to bed, I think."

"So, who do you think'll be teaching Defence?" Harry asked as they left The Great Hall and started the first flight of stairs up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Dunno."

"Well, as long as it's no-one from the Ministry," Hermione said.

"Maybe we're getting Lupin back but he's not here 'cos of the full moon," Ron suggested.

"The next full moon isn't for another three days," Hermione told him. "Besides, I don't think that the parents would be too happy about a supposedly Dark creature returning to Hogwarts now that Voldemort's back."

Ron shuddered at the Dark Lord's name and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Can't you say 'You-Know-Who' like everyone else?" he complained as Harry spoke the new password ("Galloping Gargoyles") and they climbed into the common room.

"No, I can't. And I wish you'd learn to say it like I have; it's only a name."

"Only a name? But-"

"I'm going to bed," Harry interrupted. "Good night."

"Good night, Harry," Hermione said.

"Yeah, night, mate," Ron added.

Harry climbed the stairs and changed before collapsing into his familiar four-poster bed. His dorm-mates came up not long after, Ron entering last and looking pleased with himself. Harry decided he'd obviously won the inevitable argument. He closed his bed hangings, made sure to Occlude his mind then fell asleep, glad to be back.

x

Ron and Hermione's argument seemed to be over as they sat down to breakfast the next morning and didn't even re-erupt when McGonagall came along the Gryffindor table giving out everyone's timetables.

Somehow Harry's timetable knew which subjects he'd chosen and the moment he touched it all the other subjects disappeared. He glanced over at Ron and Hermione's timetables to see that theirs had done the same thing.

"Cool, I've got Friday afternoons off," Ron announced happily.

"That's study time," Hermione said, but with a little amusement in her voice.

Ron shrugged.

"So what's yours like?" he asked.

Hermione showed them. Most people took four NEWTs, or occasionally five (there was a rumour going around that Crabbe and Goyle were doing just two each), but Hermione, Harry counted, was doing _six._

"You'll be in lessons the whole time," Ron pointed out, horrified.

"I'm sure I'll be able to fit all my homework in," Hermione reassured him.

"But what about..._other_ stuff?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be able to squeeze in my Prefect duties and a few other things," she said, smiling.

"Have you got another time-turner?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"I don't need one. I'm only doing six subjects, it's not that big a deal."

Ron didn't look convinced.

"So, what have you got first thing?" Harry asked, seeing that the first slot on his own timetable was free.

"Double History," Ron moaned. "If it wasn't for that I'd have the whole day off. I could have stayed in bed all morning."

"Ron, I don't know why you took the subject if you're just going to complain about it," Hermione said. "And speaking of which, we'd better get going or we'll be late and the only seats will be right at the back. See you at lunch, Harry."

"Yeah, see you at break," Ron added, reluctantly getting up to follow Hermione.

"Bye," Harry called.

He looked down at his timetable again. He had nothing until after lunch and no homework yet. Part of him said that he should go to the library and read up for his first lesson but another part told him it was only the first day and he didn't want to turn into Hermione. Besides, he wanted to visit Hagrid and he felt like he hadn't ridden his broom properly for months...

x

Harry was jumping down the last few steps two at a time, Firebolt in hand, and feeling more alive than he could remember for a long time when he saw a black shape appear in his path, and managed only narrowly to avoid bumping into it.

"Why aren't you in lessons, Potter?" Snape asked and Harry's previously elated heart instantly sunk back to it's normal level.

"I haven't got lessons this morning."

"The periods where you don't have lessons are called Study Periods for a reason, Potter. They are not for riding broomsticks in."

"But I haven't even got any homework yet."

Snape looked at him coldly.

"Though thankfully you have not decided to pursue a career in Potions, I do feel obliged to tell you that NEWTs are not to be taken lightly. You should be spending your Study Periods researching your subjects in preparation for your coursework. Five points from Gryffindor for running in the corridors in a hazardous fashion, five points for inappropriate use of Study Periods and five points for talking back to a Professor. And as you seem to think that you have nothing to do, you can write me two feet on the Carelessness Potion."

"But-"

"To be handed in to the Staff Room no later than 5pm today."

With that, Snape turned sharply and strode down the corridor in the direction of the dungeons.

Harry's mood as he climbed back up the stairs to put his Firebolt away could not have contrasted his earlier happiness more if he'd tried. The injustice of being given homework for a subject he wasn't even taking, for not doing homework that he hadn't even been set yet, made him furious. And 15 points taken too. This was turning out to be one of his worse starts to the year ever.

Why did Snape always have to be so nasty? Why did he ruin everything? Why did he have to hate Harry? Just because of his dad? And Sirius? It was Snape's fault that Sirius had been so miserable about staying at Grimmauld Place. It was Snape's fault that Harry hadn't learnt Occlumency properly. It was all Snape's fault that Sirius had ended up at the Ministry that day. Harry quieted the niggling feeling that said he knew it wasn't _entirely_ Snape's fault and continued to rant bitterly to himself all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower and back down to the library.

This was where Ron found him later that morning and Harry recounted what had happened.

"He can't do that," Ron said, frowning fiercely and clenching his fists. "You should tell Dumbledore; you can't let him get away with it."

Harry shrugged, having had an hour or so to calm down.

"I'm just not going to do the essay," he said. "He can't make me and I'm not going to let him think he can boss me about when I'm not even in his class. So, how was History, anyway?"

"Not that bad, actually. I mean, it's still Binns and all but we're researching strategies in the Goblin rebellions so we're discussing stuff rather than Binns just droning on. I actually took some notes."

Harry pretended to look horrified and they laughed, causing Madam Pince to send icy glares in their direction.

"So what's Hermione got now?" Harry asked in a hushed voice.

"Arithmancy. I still can't believe she's doing six subjects. Did you know she's thinking of doing some Muggle exam as well this year? I tell you, she's barmy."

x

By the time they entered The Great Hall for lunch Harry had finished reading the first two chapters of his Charms book and was beginning to suspect why these exams were called _Nastily Exhausting_ Wizarding Tests.

However, when Hermione joined them she was buzzing with excitement.

"What's got into you?" Harry asked.

"Arithmancy. It's just so... _interesting_," she gushed.

Ron looked at Harry and rolled his eyes.

"So have you got lessons all afternoon?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Just double Charms."

"But I've got Potions after that," Hermione added.

"That reminds me," Harry said, and he retold his story about his Potions essay, although he neglected to mention that he hadn't actually bothered to do it.

Hermione's reaction wasn't quite what he was expecting.

"Well, you didn't expect him to change, did you? And he has sort of got a point. You just about got away with doing all your homework at the last minute with your OWLs but for NEWTs we'll have lots of projects to do so you really can't get behind."

Ron and Harry groaned in unison.

"This year's important," Hermione persisted. "I think we need to take a more mature attitude."

"Okay, okay, we'll do our homework earlier," Ron said dejectedly.

"And I think we need to make more of an effort to get along with the other houses."

"Not this again."

"Ron, it's important. I've already partnered with Morag MacDougal from Ravenclaw in Arithmancy and she told me she was surprised because she always thought of Gryffindors as sticking together at the exclusion of everyone else."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yes! It's terrible. We're supposed to be the brave house but we hardly ever talk to anyone outside our own group of friends. Morag says everyone's noticed. I think we ought to make more of an effort to make friends."

He tried to think who he knew from the other houses. There was Luna, of course, and Cho, although he hadn't actually talked to Cho in quite some time. Ron had gone to the Yule ball with Padma a couple of years ago but Harry decided that didn't count as she had avoided him ever since. They got along with Justin okay, when he wasn't accusing Harry of being evil.

In fact, all the people who had come to the DA meetings were okay, although Harry had never quite managed to get along with Zaccharius Smith... He realised guiltily that he didn't have a clue who most of the younger students were, even the Gryffindors. Hermione probably did, but then she was a prefect and it was her job to know, he reasoned.

"Well, as long as you don't go asking us to be friends with the Slytherins!" Ron conceded before tucking into his fifth chicken and bacon sandwich.

Hermione, Harry noticed, didn't answer him. She was wearing the sort of expression that usually preceded a trip to the library for no apparent reason. It didn't bode well.

x

Charms was Harry's first lesson of the year and gave him some indication of how different his last two years of school were going to be.

The first thing he noticed on entering the room was that, as not everyone had chosen the subject, the Gryffindors were being taught with the Hufflepuffs. The class was still smaller than usual and Harry thought that Professor Flitwick seemed more informal.

"I'm so pleased to see you all continuing with your Charms studies," he said, teetering on the top of his pile of books. "It really is an incredibly useful subject. However, you have chosen to take Charms NEWT so I expect everyone to work hard. Having said that, this is where Charms gets really interesting and hopefully you'll have a little fun and learn to love the subject as I have," he squeaked excitedly.

Harry learned that Flitwick hadn't been exaggerating when he said that they'd have to work hard. Despite reading ahead in his study period, the charm that they were doing was considerably more complicated than those they had mastered for their OWLs. The Whiff Shifting Charm they were learning was supposed to disguise one smell with another. However, after an hour and a half with pegs on their noses even Hermione's bunch of flowers still smelt faintly of rotting fish.

At the end of the lesson Flitwick outlined what they were going to cover during the first term and introduced the coursework that they would have to hand in before Christmas. By the time the bell for break came Harry was beginning to admit, with much reluctance, that Snape might have had a point.

Ron and Harry spent the last hour of the school day in the Common Room; Harry starting his Charms homework and Ron reading ahead for their Transfiguration lesson the next morning.

"You know," Harry said wearily when his brain decided it had reached overload for the day, "if the next two years are like this I think I'll die of stress before Voldemort even gets near me."

Ron looked up sharply and dropped his book at the sound of You-know-who's name. He scowled at Harry.

"You make it sound like it's inevitable that he'll get you. You might not even see him ever again, you know – maybe now that the Ministry and everyone admit he's back he'll be too busy with them and he'll give up on you."

"Maybe," Harry said non-committally. He felt a pang of guilt for keeping the contents of his prophecy from Ron but reasoned that there was no need to worry his friends unnecessarily.

They went down to dinner and found Hermione talking enthusiastically about Potions to the only person who was polite enough to listen; Neville looked like he was reliving some sort of nightmare.

"Harry! Ron! Hello!" he said somewhat overzealously, stopping Hermione mid flow.

"Hi Neville. How's Herbology this year?" Harry asked.

"Great," he said starting to blush. "Professor Sprout said that my Mimbulus mimbletonia was doing so well that if it bloomed before the end of term I'd be able to use it for my coursework."

"That's wonderful Neville," Hermione started. She looked like she had been about to say something else but had spotted something over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned round to look and found McGonagall behind him.

"Good evening," she said. "I wonder, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, if you could come up to my office at seven tomorrow evening?"

"Are we in trouble?" Ron asked.

Harry swore that the Deputy headmistress' lips twitched slightly.

"Should you be?" she asked, although she didn't wait for an answer. "I have a matter I'd like to discuss with you both."

"I wonder what that's about," Hermione pondered when she'd left.

Ron shrugged and started helping himself to Shepherds Pie.

Harry looked up at the head table. He wondered if Snape had told his Head of house about the essay he was supposed to have done but the Potions professor wasn't there. Harry noticed that there was still no-one in the Defence teacher's spot.

"Hey, Seamus, didn't you have Defence Against the Dark Arts today?"

"Yep," the Irishman replied.

"So? What was the new professor like?"

"Wicked but I'm not saying a word apart from that," Seamus said, shaking his head. "That's our first assignment and I'm not gonna fail the easiest homework I've ever been given. You'll just have to wait and see."

x

Back in the Common Room Harry relaxed in one of the comfy sofas, reasoning that he had already done more work that day than in his whole first week back the year before. Ginny was already there, waiting for Dean to arrive and had brought the latest edition of The Quibbler with her.

Harry always associated the paper with the interview he'd done, and therefore Voldemort, and wasn't very eager to start reading it again. Instead, he watched Ron and Hermione as they sat together on the last two chairs squeezed in at the end of the table, quietly discussing their History assignment.

"Is it my imagination or do those two seem a bit. . . _weird_ lately?" Harry asked turning to Ginny.

She seemed engrossed in the page and didn't look up.

"I've been living with Fred and George my whole life," she said vaguely. "I've lost all sense of what's weird and what's not." She flicked to the next page. "Hey, have you seen this advert for Babbling boxes? Apparently they can make you fluent in any one of fifteen different languages. Fudge could have done with one of those at the Quidditch World Cup."

x

Harry woke the next morning with a strange feeling of anticipation. Confused, he lay looking up at the ceiling trying to work out what it was that was causing his stomach to twist into knots. The only explanation he could come up with was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Their mysterious new teacher would finally be unveiled today.

"Ron, Harry, you awake?" Dean called though the bed curtains.

"Yeah, I'm up," Harry said reluctantly as he left the warmth of his bed covers.

At the Gryffindor table Hedwig came to visit him, although she wasn't carrying any post for him. Harry shared a bit of bacon with her before she soared off back to the Owlery. Ron was half asleep and Hermione only just managed to stop him from spooning marmalade into his tea. She had to keep nudging him to prevent him from falling asleep in his breakfast.

"Come on," she said. "We may as well leave or Ron'll only doze off and make us late."

However, on the way out Harry heard Snape's voice.

"Potter!"

Harry cringed but stopped just before the doors, urging Ron and Hermione to go on ahead and save a seat for him.

Without pre-amble Snape said "You will have detention. My office. Thanks to your _friend _Lupin I am rather busy brewing a complicated potion this evening but you will come tomorrow night otherwise you and I will be spending every evening next week in each other's company. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry just shrugged.

Snape sneered and grit his teeth. "I assure you, as little as I will enjoy the task, I will hold you to it and if you are even a minute late I will instruct Mr Filch to come and find you and you will serve a further week with him." Snape glared at him as if to use his Legilimency skills to make sure the information had made it into his mind. Rather belatedly Harry thought to Occlude his mind against it. Snape sniffed. "You are about to be late for your first lesson."

Harry was indeed running late for Defence. The Hall had already cleared and, thinking that this probably wasn't the best first impression to give his new teacher, he ran all the way to the third floor. Out of breath, he sank into his seat next to Hermione on the dot of nine, just as the door opened behind him. Harry turned round and his jaw dropped.

_Snape _was standing in the doorway. And what's more, he was_... smiling_. Harry had always known that Snape wanted the Defence teacher's job but Dumbledore had always had his reasons for not appointing him. It was then, though, that Harry saw that Snape's smile wasn't the same snide one he wore when Neville's toad was about to be fed a botched potion, or the vicious one when he thought Harry and Ron were going to be expelled. This smile was, well... _happy _and it didn't suit him. In fact, the longer Harry thought about it, it really didn't look right on him at all.

Snape was making his way towards the front of the room, the class looking on in surprise, as Harry's hand subconsciously reached to finger his wand. It wasn't until Harry realised that Snape was humming an indistinguishable tune that he actually slowly and subtly removed it from his pocket. Snape had now reached the front and in one movement he jumped to sit on the edge of the desk, swiftly pulling out and turning his wand on them in the process.

Harry reacted before he had time to think about it, casting a _Stupify_. His curse was easily blocked but before he could cast another, his opponent demonstratively lowered his wand to the desk and held up his empty hands.

Confused, Harry froze, not taking his eyes off this person who, by now, Harry was convinced was an impostor. _Snape_ closed his eyes and in an instant someone completely different was sat in front of the sixth years.

"Wotcher, Harry. Nice aim."

Harry grinned, a small chuckle escaping him. His first thought was to wonder whether Snape would like this any better than when Lupin (or Remus, as Harry reminded himself to call him) had encouraged Neville to adorn him in a dress and vulture hat. His second thought was that if Tonks really was teaching them, they were in for an interesting year.

When Tonks' neon green-haired appearance had replaced Snape's there were gasps from around the room, followed by excited whispering. In her more familiar form Snape's robes were far too big. After a moment, in which she tried unsuccessfully to perform a Tailor's Trimming Charm, she shrugged and started rolling up the sleeves.

"Never did quite get the hang of these householdy sort of spells," she said without a hint of embarrassment.

"Well, then. First of all, in case you haven't caught on, I'm not your beloved Potions Master. The Ministry reckons that your training's been lacking something so they've sent you a qualified Auror to plug the gap." She said by way of introduction.

"It was the Ministry who made sure our training was lacking in the first place," Hermione muttered beside Harry.

"I couldn't possibly comment on any shortcomings my esteemed employers may have," Tonks said, winking obviously at her. "Anyway, my Mum named me Nymphadora Tonks but anyone calling me Nymphadora will be hexed. Same goes for 'Professor'. Anyone who doesn't like 'Tonks' can call me 'Auror Tonks', but don't be surprised if I hex you just to keep you on your toes anyway."

One or two in the class laughed nervously.

"I'm sure you know that the Headmaster has made NEWT Defence Against The Dark Arts compulsory this year so there are a lot more of you than usual. Instead of being split into Houses you've been sorted into skill groups according to your OWL results and past teachers' comments. That means I can give the cleverer ones a bit of a kick up the bum and help the ones who don't find Defence as easy."

Hermione put her hand up. It was not her usual enthusiastic gesture but a rather hesitant half-raised arm.

"Hermione," Tonks said smiling.

"Er, well I was just wondering whether- I mean, which group we were in?"

Tonks' smile widened.

"Everyone in this class got Exceeds Expectations or Outstanding in their Defence OWL," Tonks reassured her. Hermione relaxed. "In fact, I've been told that someone may have beaten the previous record highest score." She shot a sidelong glance in Harry's direction. "The Ministry's just checking the old Latin records before announcing it."

Harry found his face heating and looked down in the hope that everyone would look somewhere else.

"Righto, lets get started. Okay, so what did we learn from our little game at the beginning of the lesson?"

"Never trust Snape," someone behind Harry offered.

Tonks smiled.

"I've been told I should correct you whenever you don't use a professor's title," Tonks said, although Harry noticed that she actually hadn't. "No, the most important thing to remember is to trust your instincts. If something doesn't feel right, it usually isn't. And Sn- Professor Snape humming the Weird Sisters is _never_ right. But," she added, "you also need to learn how to react correctly to your instincts. Sometimes firing curses is the right way to go but I'll be teaching you some alternatives."

Tonks hopped back off desk, sending pile of parchments fluttering to the floor, and turned to the board. A flick of her wand produced a cloud of chalk dust but when it cleared there was a list of rules on the board (number one being 'Trust your instincts' and the last 'Know your enemy'). She looked appraisingly at the list before picking up the chalk and adding '16: Not being able to do something perfectly isn't a good enough reason not to try it!'

"Now," she said pacing along the front of the classroom as they copied down the list, "this is a NEWT-level class so I'm not going to spoon-feed you information for you to swallow and regurgitate parrot-fashion in your exams. Life isn't like that. If you're faced with a Death Eater or a Chimaera they're not going to get you to recite curse formulas or tell you which spell you need to defeat them. You have to learn to think for yourselves and not rely solely on what some dusty old textbook tells you to do."

At this Hermione looked faintly alarmed and Harry was reminded of his third year Divination classes when Trelawney had said something similar. Hermione had walked out of the class later that year.

"But we are gonna have some fun," Tonks said brightly, "so I think it's time for a bit of spell throwing. Let's find out what you can do. Help me get rid of these desks."

Remembering Umbridge's theoretical lessons the year before, everyone started enthusiastically moving their bags out of the way. Harry took this time to look around him at who else was in the top group. Proudly he noticed that most of the DA members were there, and that there was only one Slytherin: a rather grumpy looking Blaise Zabini. Just as he'd had this thought the door opened. Harry looked round to see who had joined them half way through the class.

He should have known... Malfoy.

"You're a bit late, Cuz," Tonks said politely but without the friendly tone she usually spoke in. "Why don't you come in and close the door?"

Malfoy did but muttered something that sounded like it contained the words "Mudblood"... "traitor"... "beneath me"... "compulsory..." He went to stand next to Blaise and they both scowled at Tonks with superior expressions on their faces.

Unphased, Tonks began splitting the class into pairs then revising some of the curses they had learnt in previous years. Harry was working with Neville and was pleased to see that he hadn't forgotten too much over the summer holidays.

The Slytherins were practising behind them, having a conversation loud enough for Harry to hear every word.

". . . and imagine being _forced_ to take this awful subject. I mean, quite aside from the obvious inadequacy of the teaching, why would _I_ need to learn to defend myself from the Dark Arts? I can only imagine what Father's going to say when I tell him; he'll think it entirely amusing, I'm sure."

Malfoy laughed coldly and Harry resisted the temptation to turn round and hex him. He had given him something to think about though... Draco had mentioned seeing his father. Surely Azkaban didn't allow visitors? Had Lucius Malfoy been given a trial already? And if so why had no-one told him?

Harry's musing was cut short as Neville sent a Tickling Charm close enough to cause a breeze past his ear and Harry decided he ought to concentrate on what he was doing.

After the lesson had ended Harry lingered behind to talk to Tonks.

"How come you didn't tell me you were going to be our Defence teacher?" he asked once there was only Tonks, Ron, Hermione and him left in the room.

She ginned. "I remembered McGonagall's wicked Animagus trick from when I was a student here and I thought it was pretty cool," she admitted. "I like to create an impression. Mind you, it'll be nice to finally be able to eat in Great Hall now everyone knows."

Outside, Harry found Malfoy and Zabini loitering in the corridor.

"Sucking up to the new teacher already, Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

"Nah, not worth it. She's your cousin. Probably likes you best."

"That freak's no cousin of mine."

"What d'you mean? She comes from a long line of Pure-bloods, from what I understand," Harry mocked.

"Even the best families occasionally turn out a bad one. Your mutt of a godfather was a good example of that," Malfoy sneered cruelly.

Harry hadn't been ready for this brutal assessment of Sirius when the wound was still so fresh and couldn't think of a single thing to say in response.

"Come on, let's go," Hermione said, dragging Harry down the corridor as Malfoy stood laughing.

x

Tonks finally made an appearance at dinner that evening. During dessert Dumbledore officially welcomed 'Nymphadora' to Hogwarts, which was met with loud clapping from almost everyone in the hall.

"Tonks is cool," Ron said. "Maybe even better than Lupin."

Hermione nodded approvingly. "It is good that the Ministry finally acknowledged that we need to learn how to defend ourselves properly. I was beginning to wonder if they were taking the situation seriously at all but if they've sent a proper Auror then they must be."

Harry smiled, happy to remember the yoga lessons that he and Tonks had attended together that summer. They'd had a lot of fun in the end and Harry was determined that this year would turn out better than his fifth year had done.

Despite this Harry felt a surge of the nervous expectation that had been in the background of his thoughts all day. He passed it off as worry about what his and Ron's meeting with McGonagall that evening might be about, or perhaps even foreboding at the thought of Snape's detention the next day. The Potions Master had seemed to be in a particularly nasty mood, which could only make his punishment more severe.

x

After dinner Ron and Hermione disappeared to perform their Prefect duties so when the Common Room clock read five to seven Harry packed up his things and headed along the corridors to the Deputy headmistress' office. Harry knocked. Ron was already there, as was Katie Bell, to Harry's surprise.

"Ah, Mr Potter, I'm glad you're here. Perhaps we can get straight on to the matter at hand," McGonagall said cheerfully.

It was at this point that Harry noticed that Katie and his professor were stood next to a glass display case housing the Quidditch cup, which had red and gold ribbons tied around its handles.

"I have invited you here this evening because you are the only members of the Gryffindor house Quidditch team to have played for a full season. As you may already know, it is my duty as your Head of house to pick the Quidditch Captain and I wanted to let you all know that this year I have chosen you, Harry."

She looked expectantly at him as Katie smiled and Ron gave him a hearty pat on the back.

"But... what if I don't want to be Captain? Harry voiced uncertainly.

McGonagall blinked then frowned at him.

"It is an honour to be chosen to lead your team, Mr Potter. Given that Mr Weasley has not been on the team as long as you have and that Miss Bell has Prefect duties as well as the pressures of her final year, I would have thought that you would be the ideal candidate."

"I don't want it," Harry said more firmly. "I'd rather not play at all."

McGonagall looked astonished and Harry could see his team-mates staring at him, a mixture of shock and confusion written on their faces.

"I'm a Seeker," Harry started by way of explanation. "We're not supposed to concentrate on the main game too much. I can't watch the other players _and_ search for the Snitch at the same time."

McGonagall sighed.

"What would you propose?"

"Well, I think Katie'd be good but she's leaving at the end of the year so we'd just have the same problem next year. Ron's obsessed with the game; he probably knows more about Quidditch strategies than the rest of the team put together. He's been practising a lot too. I think Ron should be Captain."

Ron was listening wide-eyed but Katie nodded.

"I agree," she said

"Well," McGonagall said, "I suppose that-"

"What if I don't want it either?" Ron said, his voice slightly tight.

McGonagall looked like she'd had a very long day and the smile she'd worn when they first arrived had long since faded.

"Well _someone_ has to," she said.

"Okay, I'll do it, but only if Harry's Joint Captain," Ron said.

"The rules don't allow for joint captaincy," McGonagall said exasperatedly.

"Well... what about an Assistant Captain?"

"Fine," McGonagall said with the air of wanting to be finished with the matter. "Mr Weasley, you are our new Captain. Mr Potter, you are Assistant Captain. I trust this is to everyone's approval?"

x

When Ron and Harry entered the Common Room again they spotted Hermione in a comfy chair talking to Ginny.

"Hey, guess who's Quidditch Captain?" Harry said as they sat down across from the girls.

Hermione and Ginny looked between them both and Harry guessed that they were reluctant to say anything in case they guessed wrongly. No-one wanted a repeat of the incident with Ron's Prefect badge the year before.

"Ron!" Harry announced.

"Well done Ron," Ginny said, getting up to hug her brother.

"Prefect _and_ Quidditch Captain," Hermione said, beaming.

"Yeah, I know, _lots of responsibility_,_ mustn't let my studies slip_, but Harry's Assistant Captain so I won't have to do it all myself."

Hermione's smile disappeared and she looked hurt.

"I… I wasn't going to say anything like that. I just… I meant you're doing well."

"Oh."

"So how come we've got an Assistant Captain this year, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Ask Ron. He didn't want to do it by himself."

"Well you didn't want to do it at all," Ron countered.

"Professor McGonagall offered it to you first?" Hermione asked Harry, confused.

Harry shrugged. "Only because I've been on the team longer," he said.

"But why did you turn it down?" Ginny asked.

"Ron's much better at the strategy stuff than I am. Besides, Seekers don't make very good Captains. There's hardly any in the professional teams, are there Ron?"

"Only the Arrows Seeker, but she's very good."

"You should Owl Charlie," Ginny suggested. "He was always complaining that twins never took it seriously enough to be picked."

"Yeah, you're right," Ron said and he leapt up to get some parchment and borrow a quill from a group of third years.

"So why did you _really_ turn it down?" Ginny asked when he was out of earshot.

"Really, Ron will be much better. Besides, I want to do well on my NEWTs, don't I?"

Neither of the girls seemed convinced by his sudden concern about his school work but Harry wasn't about to tell them that with Voldemort's prophecy hanging over his head he could do with all the responsibility-free enjoyment he could get.

Ron came back and wrote a lengthy letter to Charlie whilst Hermione went to talk to Parvati about something that she refused to disclose.

"Want a game of Exploding Snap?" Ginny offered.

Harry agreed and as he placed his last card without so much as a puff of smoke appearing he felt a peculiar swell of triumphant achievement that made him feel giddy and rid him of all the anticipation he'd been carrying around.

When the Common Room started to empty Harry stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to bed. Are you coming Ron?"

"Er, no. I'll be up in a bit."

"Okay. Night everyone," Harry said before he started climbing the stairs to their dorm. His brain vaguely registered that this was the second time in three days that Ron had gone to bed after all the rest of his dorm-mates but Harry just assumed that his friend wanted to bask in his rare personal glory a little longer and he was soon slipping into slumber.

**x x x x x x x x x**

**Next chapter**: Harry serves his detention with Snape but that's the least of his worries.

**A/N**: Blimey! You wouldn't believe how difficult this chapter was to get out. It's been re-written so many times that it's pretty much unrecognisable from the original draft. I feel like I've just given birth or something. :) To those reviewers asking for more, may I humbly recommend my other H/G fics. They're only one-shots and tend to be rather fluffy round the edges but people seem to like them and it passes the time. Free H.U.R.L. membership to everyone who reviews! (No, you're right. I wouldn't either…)

Posted 09Apr05.


	7. Free

**From last time: **

_His brain vaguely registered that this was the second time in three days that Ron had gone to bed after all the rest of his dorm-mates but Harry just assumed that his friend wanted to bask in his rare personal glory a little longer and he was soon slipping into slumber._

**7: Free**

Ron kept glancing up from his bacon and eggs towards the Great Hall's upper windows the next day.

"Pigwidgeon won't have made it all the way to Romania and back overnight," Hermione finally told him. "My letters to Bulgaria usually take at least a day or two."

Ron gave her a strange look but just mumbled "Yeah, I s'pose," and scooped up another spoonful of scrambled egg.

"Hey, we should tell Hagrid about you being Quidditch Captain," Harry suggested. "He'd like to know. Why don't we stay behind and see him after Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Okay," Ron agreed cheerfully around his mouthful.

"I'll come down and meet you afterwards," Hermione said.

With the sound of the fluttering of wings, countless owls began their descent into the Great Hall to deliver the morning's post. Neither Hedwig nor Pigwidgeon was amongst them but a large barn owl that Harry recognised as being one of the school owls landed on the Gryffindor table next to Harry, knocking his pumpkin juice into his lap.

"Argh, I'm soaked," Harry muttered.

He dried his robes with a flick of his wand, although they were still slightly sticky. Untying the note, he saw that it was from Snape. Trust the Head of Slytherin to choose an owl that would upturn his juice all over him. He opened the parchment:

'Your detention will take place at 7pm in my office.'

He showed the note to Ron, which unfortunately meant Hermione finding out.

"Well I'm not going," Harry said defiantly.

"Oh don't be so ridiculous," Hermione told him dismissively. "If you'd just done his essay in the first place you wouldn't have detention. If you don't go he'll only give you two weeks with Filch. Besides, what was all that you promised me about taking your studies more seriously this year?"

Harry knew she was right and decided to console himself with a glare directed towards the Potions Professor, only to find that he had already left the Great Hall. He settled instead for finding Draco but the Slytherin was reading a letter of his own and looked decidedly smug.

"What's Malfoy so happy about?" Harry asked, grumpily.

Ron looked across. "Dunno. Slytherin git. Whatever it is probably isn't good," Ron said.

"You know, you really should try to be less judgemental about other Houses, you know," Hermione said, setting aside her own breakfast. "I've had an idea that I've been working on. It'll probably take quite a bit of time and effort but it might even be worth putting SPEW on hold in order to pursue."

Ron and Harry shared a grin but managed to straighten their features by the time Hermione turned to them.

"Parvati's been helping me with some of it but I'll have to talk to Dumbledore soon. And the Head Girl and Boy. Oh, that reminds me, I need to check something," she said starting to gather her things together. "Save me a seat. I'll catch you up."

With that she left without another word.

"There's nobody quite like Hermione, is there?" Ron asked.

Harry laughed.

x

Harry and Ron arrived at Hagrid's hut later that morning to find that they were the only Gryffindors there. The class was shared with the Hufflepuffs, most of whom seemed more eager to take care of whatever dangerous beast Hagrid had for them than any of the Slytherins ever had.

"Ah, there you all are," Hagrid said as the last few people arrived. "Good group, this; not too big. Don't wan' ter frighten the blighters now do we?"

Someone swore loudly. Harry looked round to see who would insult Hagrid so blatantly but everyone looked as confused as he was. Hagrid just laughed, although Harry detected a blush appearing on his weathered cheeks.

"The Headmaster doesn't want me t' show these t' the first years. Pity really," Hagrid said sadly as he took the cover off a wire enclosure to reveal five large, ferret-like animals.

"Hey, Malfoydecided to take Creatures after all," Ron said.

A few people laughed and Harry thought he could see Hagrid smiling.

"Jarveys," Hagrid announced, as one of the animals behind him let out a string of half sentences. "Bit chattier than yer average critter. Wouldn't bother ter try an' have a conversation with 'em; bit limited, if yer see wha' I mean. Completely harmless though."

Harry didn't think the Jarveys looked very happy to be caged, however, and was a little dubious when Hagrid suggested that they could take them out and pet them as they fed them.

Harry and Ron's Jarvey, firmly leashed, was soon being fed from a bucket of, quite frankly slimey, dead rats. It would stick out its dimpled pink tongue, almost as if taking an experimental taste, before lunging for the rat with an enthusiastic string of random (and often rude) words.

Harry was glad that Hermione wasn't there as its eating habits would have made her cringe; it clung onto its food with sharp front teeth, shaking its head viciously from side to side and getting flecks of flesh stuck in its fur. Harry, who was the one doing the feeding whilst Ron held the lead, didn't think much of the creatures but Ron was enjoying himself immensely.

"I'm re-living the bouncing ferret incident," he explained happily and took great joy in insulting their Jarvey, only for the animal to swear back. As Hagrid couldn't be sure who was saying what he let most of it slip. Ron's reminiscing only reminded Harry of the Slytherin's smug expression at breakfast, which just served to irritate Harry even more.

Unfortunately, the Jarvey also appeared to be capable of smelling the remains of Harry's morning pumpkin juice on his robes and was intent on sniffing him, rather like an over-friendly dog.

All in all, Harry was relieved when it came to the end of the class. He and Ron helped Hagrid to re-cage their subjects then Ron told him about his new appointment.

"Tha's great!" Hagrid said enthusiastically thumping Ron on the back and causing him to take a couple of steps forward. "Oh, sorry, Ron. Forget me own strength sometimes."

They were joined by Hermione and Ginny, who had just had her Herbology lesson.

"Have you told him yet?" Ginny asked.

"He has," Hagrid confirmed. "An' right proud yer must be too. I remember when your brother Charlie was Captain. Nice kid. Team won every game tha' year an' I'm sure you'll do just as good. Help Gryffindor Keep that cup, eh?"

"We hope so."

"So, er, how's Grawp?" Hermione asked timidly, as if she really wasn't sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

Hagrid grinned broadly. "He's doin' really well now. Doesn' pull up trees or anything. Mostly don' have to tie 'im down at all."

"Oh," Hermione said blankly. "Well, that's... good, I suppose."

"It's the Headmaster tha' deserves most the credit. Great man, Dumbledore. Came down ter see me an' said it was okay for him ter stay an' he'd help teach him an' everything. He's been giving Grawpy English lessons once a week."

Hermione seemed stunned into silence by this revelation and no-one else really knew what to say either.

"Er, Hagrid, I should go," Ron said, tentatively. "I've got to go through some stuff before the try-outs tonight."

Hermione suddenly came back to life again. "Oh no, how could I forget? I've got a meeting after lunch. I'm going to have to dash too. We'll come and see you again soon though," she said.

She and Ron gathered their things and set off up the grounds at a rushed pace.

"We should go as well otherwise we'll miss lunch," Harry said. "Are you coming?" he asked Hagrid.

"No, I've got some stoat sandwiches. Bit more substantial than wha' you lot eat. Before you go though," Hagrid said in a hushed voice. "If... well, yer see... seems Grawp took a bit of a likin' to our Hermione an', well, I don' think it's a good idea for her ter visit 'im jus' yet. Dumbledore's only jus' got him ter stop askin' for her."

Harry fought so hard to stop himself from smiling that his jaw actually started to ache.

"We'll break it to her gently," Ginny assured Hagrid, who then instantly brightened.

"Ah, well tha's good then. I'm sure she'll be able ter visit 'im later."

Promising to visit again soon, Harry and Ginny left to follow Ron and Hermione. Once out of earshot of Hagrid's hut, Harry laughed, unable to keep it in.

"Can you believe Grawp has a crush on Hermione?" he gasped. "If she knew she'd probably go out with him just to keep up Human-Giant relations!" A mental image of the pair holding hands in Madam Puddifoot's sobered him up a bit. "Well, p'raps not."

Ginny didn't reply and when Harry turned to look at her he thought she seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"Are you okay?"

Ginny nodded but wouldn't look him in the eye.

Harry looked to where they could see Ron and Hermione walking up ahead of them towards the castle. Ron kept glancing back, although Harry couldn't tell what he was looking for. Suddenly Hermione threw up her hands in frustration.

"I think they're arguing again," Harry commented. "You know, I wish they'd just..."

Harry stopped himself. He had been about to say 'admit they fancy each other and get it over with. He'd had an inkling that Ron liked Hermione for quite a while. Not that Ron had ever said anything – they really didn't discuss that sort of thing – but it had become obvious, even to him. What else was that big fight after the Yule Ball about? And all that fuss over Krum, which _finally _seemed to have abated this year. Pity it wasn't quite as obvious to Ron.

Hermione was different; more subtle. Recently he'd noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was watching Ron. She sat just a little closer to him when she was explaining something and seemed much more patient with him that she had in the past.

Actually, he'd noticed that they'd toned down their bickering in front of him. He still saw them argue sometimes but it was usually from across the common room.

"Yes?" Ginny prompted, as if waiting for a juicy bit of gossip.

Harry felt his face heat. "Never mind."

She looked like she was going to suggest some mad plan to get them together but Harry didn't want to get involved. Any outside 'help' would probably just embarrass them, leading to denials, and then they'd never talk to him again, let alone each other. He sighed.

"I wouldn't interfere if I were you, Ginny. I don't think they'd appreciate it."

She looked disappointed but if they wanted to be together they'd have to figure it out for themselves. Ginny dropped the subject but kept glancing at him and looked to be in two minds about something all the way to the Great Hall where she said goodbye to join Dean.

By the time Harry had taken a seat Ron had already surrounded himself with Quidditch books and complicated looking diagrams. Remembering some of Oliver's longer strategy explanations - involving numerous flip charts - Harry wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake in suggesting his friend as Captain.

Ron suddenly abandoned his half-eaten blueberry pie, turned to Harry and in one long breath said, "D'you think we should use the 3-1-2-1 formation or just rely on loose flying? I think we need free-Beaters for when we play the Slytherins. And our Chasers are pretty quick. I've been studying Ginny's technique over the summer; did you know she can do a 170 degree turn? She really can. It's not quite 180 but it's really good for an amateur. A loose team would probably suit us best. You don't really need direction either. You've always just relied on instinct so I don't think we should change that. Yes, definitely loose flying."

Ron nodded and turned back to his diagrams as Harry bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing. Ron was so obviously enjoying his new role that Harry couldn't help but smile... even if it meant hours of extra team talks.

x

Their first lesson after lunch was Defence Against the Dark Arts and a crowd of students from all four Houses had gathered outside their classroom. As Harry and Ron approached Malfoy noticed them and stepped away from the wall into their path, with Blaise standing at his side.

"Looking forward to choosing the next generation of Gryffindor losers?" he mocked.

"Leave off, Malfoy," Ron said with his fists clenched in his pocket.

"Oooh, I'm scared. Would anyone even care if you fell off your broom, Weasley? With all those kids I suppose your Mum would be grateful for one less mouth to feed. Your Dad would probably be too busy saving Muggles from animated teapots to even notice."

"You can talk," Harry said. "At least his Dad isn't in Azkaban."

To Harry's surprise, a superior smile crossed Malfoy's face. "What's the matter, Potter? Missing him? Never mind, I'm sure you'll see him again soon enough."

Ron said something rather rude which was fortunately drowned out by the clatter of armour hitting the floor.

"Oops. Sorry," Tonks' voice rang out from around the corner.

"And I'm sure the more... _wayward_ branches of society will get what they deserve," Malfoy added before Tonks and Hermione appeared and the Slytherins slunk back into the shadows out of their way.

With a wave of Tonks' wand the door clicked unlocked and creaked open allowing the students in. Their Defence teacher no longer wore her _Snape _cloak but was instead in boots, thick stripy tights, a knee-length red tartan skirt and a black t-shirt – the type of clothes Harry had only ever seen once before, when he had been dragged to London to accompany Dudley's specialist fitting for his new Smeltings uniform and they had accidentally got off the tube at Camden Town, to Aunt Petunia's horror.

"Thought I'd dress for the location, blend in a bit. What d'you think?"

She twirled on the spot.

Harry noticed that Terry Boot and Michael Corner had sat considerably closer to the front than usual. When everyone was settled into their seats Tonks jumped up to perch on the edge of the desk.

"So," she said focussing on the class, "this class is gonna be a bit different from the others. I'm setting you a few challenges," she announced.

There was a murmur from everyone around Harry, except for a snort from behind him which he guessed to be Malfoy.

"For your first challenge I want you to pretend you're in the Forbidden Forest. I know that'll be difficult 'cos it's out of bounds so of course none of you will have been there, but try to use your imagination." Tonks winked at Harry. "Okay, all got it? Good, now you hear a rustle of leaves and a twig snapping and all that corny sort of horror flick stuff." (A few of the students with magical parents looked puzzled at this reference.) "Then, suddenly, out of nowhere you see... "

Tonks' dramatic pause went on for so long that Harry wondered if she had forgotten what she had been about to say.

"... a Graphorn. Now, remember to trust your instincts and use your own strengths. In fact, that can be your extra challenge for the term. A hundred points for your house when I'm convinced you've worked out what your strengths and weaknesses are." Malfoy made a noise of derision. "You might actually find that they're the same thing. But mostly, just go with what ever feels right.

"I think I'd just run," Terry said.

A few people giggled.

"Good," Tonks said. "Excellent solution. Very effective. Now the rest of you think of something and write down your idea. It doesn't have to be detailed and I don't care how many inches it is. Just get the basic idea down and bring anything you'd need to follow it through to the next class."

Terry had raised his hand. "Er, you said everyone _else_ had to write something down...?"

Tonks grinned. "Yep. Easiest bit of homework you've ever been given, I bet. Oh, before I forget, we were discussing it in the staff room this morning and I've got a message to pass on..."

She squeezed her eyes shut and her face merged into that of Snape's, which was quite disturbing (especially given her current attire) and made Terry and Michael shrink back into their seats a little.

"If anyone tries to procure a single item from my store cupboard, you _will_ regret it," _Snape_ said.

Tonks' more familiar face reappeared to add, "If you get caught."

She winked.

"Okay, let's split into pairs and have half an hour of practical. Choose a different person from last time – there's no point practising against someone whose moves you already know. Pick someone who'll surprise you."

Harry partnered with Ernie Macmillan and found that the new hex they were learning was more difficult than it looked. After his third try though, Ernie's arms were wildly flapping up and down, sending his wand flying into the air to land on the desk.

"Oh well done, Harry," Ernie said seriously, which seemed somewhat at odds with the chicken impression he was now doing. "I just can't seem of get the hang of this Wing Jinx."

"Well that's hardly surprising," came a drawl from behind Harry. "In fact, it's a wonder how you even made it into this class. Mind you, with Potter as your opponent I suppose anyone would look good," Malfoy said.

"Well, you haven't managed it," Harry pointed out, as the movement in Ernie's arms began to die down.

"Oh, please. This is so beneath me," Malfoy said. "I mean, what use is a Jinx that makes you look like a farm animal? I suppose your enemy might fall over laughing and you could run away. Oh, I forgot," he said in mock regret, "that's what you do, isn't it Potter? Get yourself into trouble then get others to bail you out as you run away?"

"Watch it, Malfoy," Harry said, tightening his grip on his wand.

The Slytherin smiled. "Oh, I'll be watching alright, don't you worry. I think things are just about to get interesting," he said with a knowing look.

Harry wanted to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean but Ernie chose that moment to turn and pick up his wand. A last errant flap sent his elbow into Malfoy's side. The blond spun round with a hex directed at Harry but Harry was too quick and the spell connected with the wall behind him.

Before Harry could send back his reply the room seemed to explode with a loud boom.

"Good," Tonks said, with a shower of pink sparkles still raining down on her. "Well, it's nice to see you all getting into the spirit. I think that's enough for today though. Don't forget your challenge for next time!"

With that, everyone started gathering their things and Harry lifted the remainder of Ernie's hex.

"What was that all about? Tonks asked as people started filing out.

Harry shrugged. Malfoy had seemed in a particularly gloating mood but he couldn't see any reason for it. "Just Malfoy being Malfoy."

Tonks looked thoughtfully at the doorway that the class had now exited. As Ron and Hermione joined them she asked "Bet you're looking forward to Quidditch starting?"

"Yep. It's just try outs tonight but Ron's booked the pitch for Sunday so we can start practise before everyone else this year.

"Almost makes me wish I was a student again."

"I'm sure you could watch if you wanted," Hermione suggested.

"You sure you should be inviting me? I was a Ravenclaw, y'know. I might be spying on your tactics." A momentary flicker of concern flashed across Ron's face. Tonks laughed and shook her head. "I can't anyway. I'm away on business at the weekends."

"Business? You mean Ord- Er, I... what are you doing?" Ron asked.

"Going abroad. And I'm sure your instinct's telling you I'm not going to say any more," she teased.

x

Ron and Hermione headed off to History whilst Harry started his homework in the library then grabbed his and Ron's brooms and headed down to the Great Hall. Hermione set down a blue folder with the letters H.U.R.L. on the outside. Ron almost choked on his mashed potato.

"Blimey! You_ have_ to be joking?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course I am. I had to write something on my folder to distinguish it from my subject ones and this seemed as good a title as any. I do have a sense of humour, you know Ron."

Ron eyed the folder sceptically but continued eating.

"So are you ever going to tell us what you're up to?" Harry asked.

"Only once I've spoken to Dumbledore next week. I don't want to get your hopes up until I'm certain it'll go ahead."

Considering the amount of time she'd already spent researching this 'treat' Harry seriously doubted he would be disappointed if whatever it was didn't go ahead. He spent the remainder of his meal glancing up at the charmed ceiling where he could see the heavy rain was now lashing against the castle. He hoped it would at least die down soon; he didn't think turn out would be good in the pouring rain.

Straight after dinner Hermione disappeared to meet the Head Girl whilst Ron and Harry rushed out to change and start the try-outs before the light started to fade.

Flying felt great.

As Harry kicked off from the ground to do a lap of the pitch his heart lifted. This was what he'd been missing all summer – the feeling of freedom, the wind rushing past his ears and through his hair. He almost felt that he could just point his Firebolt forwards and fly to the ends of the earth but somewhere down below him a whistle blew. Where had Ron got that?

The rain had subsided to a light drizzle and as Harry landed he saw that there was now quite a crowd gathered on the pitch. Gryffindor were looking for a new Chaser and a new Beater, Ron explained to the hopefuls.

"Okay, everyone up for a couple of laps of the pitch to warm up," Ron said.

He watched critically as the Gryffindors took to the air.

"How come we need a new Beater?" Harry asked. "Didn't Kirke and Sloper replace the twins at the end of last term?"

"Yeah but Sloper quit. I feel a bit sorry for him actually. He said his dorm-mates were worried we might loose the cup. I think they begged him to leave the team. Pity Kirke didn't do the same. They really were awful last term. Still, we'll have a bit more time to train now. I might even see if Fred and George can come up next Hogsmeade weekend and give out some tips."

"So did you get a good look at who's here?"

"Not much. There are about ten people trying out for Chaser so I didn't really have time to talk to everyone. There's only three for Beater though. One's Geoffrey Hooper," Ron said with obvious dislike.

"Didn't he try for Keeper last year?"

"Yep," Ron said with a glance to the flyers, who were starting their second lap. "He's a right whiner though. Unless he's changed I don't think we should take him on. He'd just depress the whole team."

"Who are the other two?"

"David Peters from third year and the skinniest girl you've ever seen in your life."

"That blonde one? Isn't she a bit small? Aren't Beaters supposed to be... I don't know, sort of beefy?"

"Well, that's what I thought at first. If I didn't know she was a second year I would have sworn she was too young but her size would make her really agile and when I talked to her she told me she played this sport at school where they throw big metal balls. Shock-put or something. She's got the biggest arm muscles I've ever seen on a girl."

"Really?" Harry asked sceptically. The other Houses' Beaters always seemed to be the biggest students on the team.

"Yep. And for a Muggle-born she really knows her stuff," Ron said enthusiastically as Ginny approached. "She's perfect. I couldn't ask for more. I just hope it works out."

"Who are you talking about?" Ginny asked with a sly smile on her face.

"Cathy O'Shea."

Ginny's smile was replaced by a frown. "Cathy O'Shea?"

"Our new Beater. Well, maybe."

"Oh. I thought... Never mind. Are we going to get started? Everyone's waiting."

The Chasers went first. Ginny and Katie teamed up with each of the hopefuls in turn and had three attempts at Ron's goal each whilst Harry hovered nearby to watch. Some were good, some were bad and one was so nervous she kept dropping the Quaffle before she could even leave the halfway point.

After everyone had had their turn the five current team members huddled together to make a decision.

"The third one was best on goal," Ron said.

Ginny and Katie shared a look then shook their heads.

"He was hogging the Quaffle all the way down the pitch," Katie said.

"Yeah, his teamwork left a bit to be desired," a rather nervous looking Kirke added.

"Well what about the girl in the middle? The one with the pigtails?"

This time it was Harry who shook his head. "She's great on goal but she's not a natural flyer. She was wobbling all over the place. If you put her in a game against Slytherin she'll fall out of the sky."

Ron sighed. "Okay, any suggestions?"

Katie spoke up. "What about that fourth year, Daniel?"

"He's okay, I s'pose," Ron admitted, "but he's..."

"Handsome?" Ginny offered.

"Reminds me of Lockhart," Ron mumbled. Harry could see the similarity. They both had wavy blond hair and the girls seemed to think they were attractive. Personally, Daniel's build and obvious effect on the girls reminded Harry more of Cedric but he didn't want to say so and certainly didn't want to dwell on all the memories connected to the Hufflepuff.

"So, we're all agreed on Daniel Taylor for Beater then?" Ginny asked.

Ron looked at his assembled team and shrugged. "Guess so."

Ginny and Katie shared a triumphant smile.

"Okay, so now we just need a Beater."

"Damn," Harry said. "I've got to go. I've got detention... Unless you need me to stay?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Hermione would kill you for missing a detention. And she'd kill me for letting you," Ron said. "You'd better go. I'll let you know how Cathy gets on."

Grudgingly, Harry made his way back up to the castle. At the entrance he paused to make sure that Filch and Mrs Norris were nowhere in sight before making his way through the entrance hall, leaving muddy footprints behind him.

As he descended the steps into the dungeon, Harry felt his resentment grow. Snape must have known that the Gryffindor tryouts were tonight. Ron had boasted that McGonagall had managed to book the pitch before the Slytherins. Harry was sure that Snape had done it on purpose so that whole team couldn't be together for tryouts. He was just using Remus' potion as an excuse. How dare he use Remus like that? Just because Snape had a grudge against his Dad didn't mean he could take it out on everyone else.

As he got nearer and nearer to Snape's office, Harry's anger built until he could feel it boiling under his skin. He didn't knock and walked straight in.

Snape had cast "Legilimens!" before Harry had even stepped fully into the room.

_Cho was telling him that she was going to the Yule Ball with Cedric ... Remus was holding him back. 'There's nothing you can do, Harry.'_

Harry pooled all of his mental strength and ejected Snape from his mind. He stood for a moment, catching his breath as if he'd just run a marathon, realising rather too late that shouldn't face an enemy in such an emotional state.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for barging in uninvited, ten points for your tardiness and ten points for being out of uniform," Snape said maliciously. "And fifteen points for failing to sufficiently practise your Occlumency." He strode until he was standing less than a foot in front of Harry but before he could say anything further the fireplace sprung into life.

Harry turned to see who it was but there was no head in the green flames. However, Dumbledore's voice spoke.

"Severus, could you come up to my office please."

"I have a student with me," Snape said, his eyes not straying from boring into Harry's.

"Yes, yes, bring Harry along with you."

With that the flames turned orange again and slowly died down. Snape's jaw was clenched.

"You heard him, Potter," he sneered. "What are you waiting for?"

Harry climbed the stairs up to Dumbledore's office in silence and resisted the urge to turn round and check that Snape was actually following him. The gargoyles stepped aside as they approached and Harry soon heard Dumbledore inviting them to come in.

Dumbledore's office looked much the same as it had done last time he was there. The circular room's walls were still decorated with the portraits of former Headmasters, although they were all pretending to sleep. Harry noticed that all the strange silver contraptions that he had broken in his fit of fury last year had been cleared away and a few new ones had appeared.

"Ah, Severus, Harry. I'm glad you're here. You both know Ms Skeeter, I believe."

Harry hadn't noticed her when he'd come in but now the journalist stepped around from behind him and Snape. She looked much better than when he'd given his interview in the Three Broomsticks last Valentine's day. Her hair was in tight ringlets and she wore a glittering smile. Her eyes revealed a certain wariness when looking at Harry though.

"What's_ she_ doing here?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"A group fighting against a powerful enemy must make friends in all sectors of society" Dumbledore told him.

Harry thought about this for a moment. "_She's_ in the Order?"

"Oh, now, Harry," Skeeter tutted wagging a crimson-nailed finger at him. "Don't hold grudges – it'll only give you wrinkles. We all have to make a living somehow. Besides, I've learned my lesson."

Seeing Harry's doubtful expression she added, "Really. Exclusives with the subject's permission make for better sales. People like the personal touch. Besides, there's no substitute for inside information."

Harry recalled that many of her articles hadn't had much genuine _information_ in them. More like a pack of lies.

"You know, we really ought to do a follow-up on that interv-"

"Speaking of information," Dumbledore interrupted, "Rita has a discovery she wishes to tell us about."

"Yes, well. An hour ago one of the Aurors I'd been shadowing took me to a meeting with Cornelius Fudge-"

Snape made a sound of disbelief.

"Well, not as myself, obviously," Skeeter said impatiently. "I was in my... _disguise_."

Harry remembered her Animagus form well from when Hermione had trapped her in a glass jar at the end of their fourth year.

"Well, anyway, this Auror was reporting to the Minister – fairly standard stuff – when a report came in," she said excitedly. "You should have seen Fudge's face. I think the stress is getting to him. Did you know that there are rumours flying around that he's thinking of giving up his position? Apparently he's been to see a Healer and she-"

"Rita, please. The report?" Dumbledore asked.

"Alright. Well, a group of Aurors had gone to Azkaban," (she shivered noticeably), "to start their shift. They're guarding it on twenty-four hour rotations since the Dementors," (another shiver), "left. Apparently that's all they can stand before..." (a third shiver), "...well, it seems that having Dementors there for so long has left its mark. One Auror had to be taken to St Mungo's the other week. Rumour has it that he's still there and he's being moved to the long-term residents' ward. His wife's been-"

"Rita," Dumbledore admonished.

"Azkaban was attacked by Dementors last night," she said bluntly.

Harry felt all the warmth drain out of him as he heard a sharp intake of breath from Snape beside him.

"Who?" the Potions Master asked simply.

"All of them. When the Aurors arrived the only people they could find were... well, they weren't really people any more."

It was Harry's turn to shiver. The Dementor's Kiss.

"_All_ the prisoners were gone?" Dumbledore asked.

Skeeter nodded and Dumbledore shared a look with Snape before sitting down behind his desk.

"Then it is confirmed. Voldemort has the Dementors under his command and his followers back."

Harry's legs felt wobbly. He thought of prisoners escaping and people being attacked whilst he was sat comfortably in the Common Room playing Exploding Snap with Ginny. A sudden realisation hit him.

"I knew it was coming," he said, more to himself than the others.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as Skeeter's eyes widened underneath her jewel-encrusted glasses.

Harry swallowed. "Yesterday. I was-" He glanced at Skeeter.

"Go on," Dumbledore said softly.

"I felt kind of nervous but excited all day. I thought... It was Voldemort, wasn't it? Anticipating the attack. And then... later... he was happy."

Harry stopped talking. He felt quite sick.

"Why didn't you mention this earlier?" Snape said angrily.

"Severus," Dumbledore said. "Without details the information would have been of limited use. Even then, I'm afraid Dementors make formidable opponents." He turned to Harry. "I know these feelings must be confusing but if you experience this again, I would be grateful if you would come and tell me?"

Harry nodded.

Skeeter cleared her throat. "Well, you probably don't need me for anything else. I want to get this written up before the morning Owls. Unless you've got a reaction for me?" she asked hopefully, her fingers straying towards the clasp of her crocodile handbag. "Something about the inadequacy of the Ministry, perhaps?" she suggested.

"You may pass on my condolences to the families of the Kissed. Thank you, Rita."

She looked disappointed but shouldered her handbag and left via the Floo. Once the flames had returned to their natural colour Dumbledore turned to Snape gravely.

"You will remember a discussion we had a couple of weeks ago?"

Snape scowled. "Of course."

Dumbledore nodded. "Then you know your next step."

Snape turned to leave but just before the door he stopped.

"Potter has detention."

Dumbledore sighed. "He and I have things to discuss but don't worry, I shall make sure he serves his detention."

With that, Snape left and the room was silent for a moment. Harry wondered what Snape had been sent to do, and why they had felt the need to keep it a secret from him. Surely it was his business to know what was going on with Voldemort? If he was ever to fulfil the prophecy they couldn't keep him in the dark like this.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Okay, I guess. I wish I'd known what he was going to do."

Dumbledore nodded. "As do I but we can't dwell on these things. What is done is done and now we can only do our best with the situation as it is."

There was silence in the room again.

"Professor Snape is a very valuable member of the Order," Dumbledore said quietly.

Harry wondered if he was at last going to be told what was going on.

"He has worked tirelessly in the fight against Voldemort, often putting himself in great personal danger. I know that you and he have had differences in the past, and I am aware that Severus' behaviour has not always been quite what I would have hoped but this rebelliousness you seem to have developed this term... None of your other teachers have reported problems so I can only assume this is a personal grudge."

Harry didn't say anything.

"Harry, Professor Snape wasn't to blame for Sirius' death. I trust him completely and cannot allow this situation to continue. One day you may find that you have more in common with him than you realise but in the meantime, I must ask that you show respect for all my members of staff. I'm sure you realise that Professor Snape would not hesitate to give you detention for the rest of the year and I cannot allow this situation to fester and grow even uglier. Do you understand?"

Harry thought that quite possibly the only thing he and Snape had in common was a dislike of Rita Skeeter. Something in the back of his mind kept telling him that Dumbledore may have a point – it wasn't useful for the Order that they were always arguing – but Harry couldn't promise to get on with him. The truth was he didn't _want_ to get on with him.

"Maybe sometime in the future the two of you will reach the point where Professor Snape feels comfortable telling you how he came to be in the Order but for now please take my word that he is doing all I ask of him."

Harry shrugged. He very much doubted Snape would ever stop hating him enough to confide in him about anything.

Dumbledore sighed.

"As much as I would like to tell you to go and get some rest, Professor Snape has given you detention and I think it best that you serve it. Perhaps it will give you time to reflect on what I have said. Please go back down to the dungeons. I will send Filch to supervise you."

During detention (in which he was tasked with cleaning muddy footprints from the hallway) Harry couldn't stop thinking of Azkaban, which inevitably lead to thoughts of Sirius and the life he wasted there. Dumbledore had probably said what he had for the good of the Order but Harry still couldn't forgive Snape. If only the greasy git had told him _why_ he'd been learning Occlumency Sirius might have been starting to lead something of a normal life. Maybe Voldemort wouldn't have been able to attack Azkaban...

Harry finished scrubbing the hallway and started on the steps down to the dungeons, which Draco Malfoy and his goons then walked up and down several times just so he'd have to start again. After starting the middle step for the fifth time, Harry wondered how late it was and if the Gryffindor Quidditch try outs had finished yet. Had Cathy O'Shea shown as much promise as Ron had hoped? He resented Snape for preventing him from participating. He was the Assistant Captain; he was supposed to be there. It reminded him of detention with that awful Umbridge woman and he unconsciously rubbed at the back of his hand.

Finally Harry reached the end of the footprints and it was certainly late enough that the Slytherins wouldn't be creating any more tonight. He yawned and got to his feet to put the bucket away in the store cupboard Filch had shown him.

The route back up to Gryffindor Tower was deserted. It was strange to see the castle quiet and this reminded him that he hadn't used his Dad's cloak since he'd got back. Maybe his Defence challenge would provide an excuse? Tonks had seemed rather unconcerned about mischief. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. It was a full moon tonight – the bright silvery light shone in through the tall windows and lit his way as he walked tiredly through the corridors, as if in a daze. He decided he ought to write Remus a letter... but not until had some sleep.

Snape's detention had lasted so long that Ron was already snoring by the time Harry reached their dorm. He had considered waking his best friend to share the news he'd learned in Dumbledore's office but he was too tired to explain it now. Besides, he should probably let Ron sleep. His best friend had had a Quidditch tryout to supervise and lately he and Hermione seemed to constantly be on Prefect Duty. Harry finally got to take off the sticky robes he'd been in all day and fell into bed.

x

Harry was dreaming of endless steps that led up through the stars to the moon. He kept trying to climb them to see Remus, who was sat at the very top, but each time he got close Rita Skeeter would appear and tell him that Dementors had stolen the last step and his only hope was to go back down and make friends with Snape.

"Harry."

But he didn't want to be friends with Snape. And how would that help Remus anyway?

"Harry."

Someone shook him and he opened his eyes to see a blurry person leaning over him.

"Here," Ron (for that was who the voice belonged to) said and the world became clear as Harry put his glasses on.

"Finally! What time did you get in last night? I've been trying to wake you for ages. You're gonna be late. I'll meet you down at breakfast."

Harry dressed as quickly as he could and practically ran down the seven flights of stairs to the Great Hall. Immediately he sensed something was wrong. Breakfast was usually a bustling and noisy affair but today there seemed to be a dark cloud hovering over the students, who sat talking in hushed tones. Suddenly the memory of what he had learned last night came back to him.

He hadn't had the opportunity to tell his friends the news but one glance in their direction told him they already knew. Ron's spoon was held, forgotten, mid-air and he was leaning over something that Hermione had on the table in front of her.

Seeing Rita Skeeter's article in black and white somehow made it all seem more real. Voldemort had orchestrated an attack on Azkaban and all of the wizarding world's most dangerous criminals, including key Death Eaters. Harry skipped the commentary and Fudge's bland quote to read through the long list of escapees. Half way down the page he saw 'Lucius Malfoy'. Harry looked over to the Slytherin table to find that Draco was watching him with a smile. Harry now understood why Malfoy had been so smug yesterday... He'd known all along.

x

**Next chapter: **a splash of romance and a heated argument...

**Author's note: **I haven't been updating as often as I'd hoped (but then I had been hoping for rather a lot) – I need to do more writing and less reading... Bad myrti.

Thanks for the reviews – in particular thanks to **Bernie Boosie **(I'll see if I can't slip a bit of Malfoy-bashing in at a later point just for you), **SunflowerLynx** and **Honey P**. It's always good to hear from you - it's nice to know that someone is actually reading this! Although I have to say that Hagrid's accent's fun to write, and almost makes the whole thing worthwhile in itself. ; )

Until next chapter, myrti xxx


	8. Deception

**Author's notes:**

1.) I apologise in advance to the florists of the world. I love you all really. My favourite flower is the Forget-Me-Not.

2.) I just realised that this chapter has lots of owls in. It's purely bad planning, I promise. There's no ulterior motive.

**From last time: **

_Harry looked over to the Slytherin table to find that Draco was watching him with a smile. Harry now understood why Malfoy had been so smug yesterday... He'd known all along._

**8: Deception**

Harry's thoughts on Malfoy junior were interrupted by Dumbledore, who had stood to address the school, his expression grave. It was the sort of announcement that was meant to sooth the first years' worries but Harry tuned it out. Was this the start? _The war._ His thoughts drifted inevitably to the prophecy and he was grateful to Hermione's elbow nudging him to encourage him to eat something.

Everyone spent the day nervously. People kept glancing around them and out of the tall windows as if they expected a crowd of Death Eaters to appear out of thin air around them (which, as Hermione would often remind people, wasn't possible on the Hogwarts grounds). Students gathered in groups and teachers talked in hushed tones. It was almost as if one of their number had already died. Harry often thought of Sirius, which reaffirmed his decision to write to Remus later.

If Draco's attitude yesterday had been smug, his reaction to the public news that Lucius was free was to be even snootier than ever.

He seemed to be making a ritual of hovering in alcoves waiting for Harry to pass just so that he could hiss "my Father's going to get you for what you did" or "I hear my Father's friends are planning a visit for you, Potter". He could barely utter a sentence any more without including the words 'my Father'. The flashpoint came outside the Defence classroom, where Harry was convinced Tonks was late on purpose so that they could practise their informal duelling.

"Of course, one of the first things my Father will do is remove all the Mudblood filth clogging up the corridors here," Draco announced to Blaise Zabini as Harry, Ron and Hermione passed.

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry said angrily, drawing his wand. Malfoy did the same but Ron was the first to fire off a Jelly-Legs Jinx. Malfoy tried to return a Blasting Curse but only ended up wobbling and hitting Zabini instead.

"You'll get what's coming to you," Malfoy sneered as Tonks finally arrived. The effect was much reduced by the fact that he was slowly slipping to the floor as he said it.

"Looks like a bit of a nifty Jinx there, cuz," Tonks commented. She didn't lift it though and led the gathered group into the classroom.

Tonks began her Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with the frank message that, yes the breakout was very scary but there was nothing they could do about the escaped Death Eaters and their best course of action was to pay attention to their Defence lesson.

To her credit, she was as cheerful as usual and took their solutions to her first challenge enthusiastically.

"Hermione, that's the perfect textbook answer," Tonks said. Hermione smiled contentedly. "But I don't think you're gonna find Iranian Swamp Water in the Forbidden Forest and there's probably not a sample in your _Accio_ range either. You need to place yourself in the situations I give you. That goes for all of you. Listen to _everything_ I tell you about your challenge. I might even give out a hint or two."

Hermione was only half as embarrassed as this mistake would ordinarily have made her and she went straight up to the Owlery after class to write to her parents. When she rejoined Harry and Ron neither mentioned her puffy eyes.

After a tension-filled day, Harry collapsed gratefully into one of the Common Room chairs. He wrote his letter to Remus and made sure to ask after Buckbeak, who Remus was taking care of in Sirius'... absence. It was pointless, Harry decided, to ask for any news on the breakout or the Order – he'd learnt this through a long summer with Tonks as his only source of news – so instead he put in a few words about how much work they already been given this term. Having taught Defence in Harry's third year, Remus would be interested to hear about Tonks' _unusual_ teaching methods and Harry also told him about Ron's fixation with the Jarveys.

By the time he'd finished and given Hedwig the job of delivering the parchment, the Common Room was starting to empty. At least the next day was Saturday. Harry was grateful that didn't have any lessons in the morning and could stay wrapped in his warm covers for a couple of extra hours.

x

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of something red.

"What on earth..." Hermione started.

For a moment he thought that Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix, had made an entrance in the Great Hall but when Harry looked up he realised that it was in fact a ruby red coloured Owl. The Owl was attracting the stares of most of the school as it did a lap of the Great Hall, executed a loop-the-loop and then finally swooped down to land between Harry and Ron.

It was carrying a parcel wrapped in red paper emblazoned with three gold Ws. The 'arms' of these letters, Harry noticed, would occasionally change colour, arm wrestle or break out in green spots.

"Cool. Fred and George samples," Ron announced, eagerly ripping open the packaging and 'decapitating' the Ws in the process.

At this news Dean sat back on his bench so that he was as far from the box as was physically possible without actually running away.

The twins, according to the accompanying letter, had managed to perfect a couple of their more ambitious ideas, having secured a supply of some rather _sensitive_ items from mutual odorous friend. It suggested that the students could do with forgetting the world outside Hogwarts for a while. ("As a wise wizard once said: 'we could all do with a few laughs'.")

There was, however, a warning that some items were not fully tested as yet – those marked "Slytherin Samples" - and the twins requested detailed reports on their effectiveness. Ginny, sitting next to Dean, leaned over to get a better look.

"It's a good job they've changed colours at last. I was getting fed up of having green body parts. I almost wish I'd never told George my favourite colour's green."

"As long as they try them out on the Slytherins I don't care what colour they turn," Dean said.

The Owl, who had obviously had its fill of kipper and was starting to fade to pink, took off into the air again and performed a fly-by of the teachers table before leaving through the upper windows.

Harry followed its path and caught Dumbledore's eye. His familiar twinkle was well established. Harry wondered what Snape thought of his former pupils' work but was almost disappointed to see that he was missing from the table.

After breakfast everyone was lead outside to take part in the school photo. It was only then that Harry noticed the strange behaviour of some of his fellow students. Most of the girls were carrying mirrors and people had starting adding all manner of accessories to their uniforms that would not have been tolerated had Snape been presiding over the event.

"Look," Ron pointed out, "Luna's wearing those radish earrings."

Harry looked. "I think they're turnips, aren't they?"

Ron laughed. "She's a weird one."

"She's not _that_ weird," Harry said defensively, remembering how badly her housemates treated her. He hadn't said more than a passing hello to her so far this year and decided that he ought to get to know her a bit better really.

Ron gave him a strange look but was soon more concerned with surreptitiously pulling on his sleeves to try and get the creases out.

"They're not gonna make us stand with the Slytherins, are they?" he asked, as a wizard carrying a large, old fashioned black camera strode up the lawn by McGonagall's side.

The Head of Gryffindor still occasionally used her cane and the pair were taking a leisurely pace. Harry was sure he recognised the photographer from somewhere. Colin Creevey was standing in the huddle nearest to the sixth year Gryffindors and Harry could hear him excitedly telling his classmates of his Muggle Dad's reaction the first time he saw a wizarding photograph.

"Would it be so bad if they did?" Hermione asked without answering Ron's question. "I was just saying to the Head Boy yesterday when we were discussing my plans for..."

Whilst Colin had calmed down somewhat as he'd matured, Harry unfortunately always recalled a small boy popping up everywhere he went, asking for signed photos, capturing his image as he lay in the mud with a broken arm or chattering without end as he lead Harry up to have his picture taken for a competition he'd never wanted to enter in the first place.

This memory brought a sudden recognition; it was the same photographer. With a sinking heart, Harry looked around for Rita Skeeter, whom he had been with on that occasion. Fortunately though, she wasn't anywhere in sight. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had sent her off on a special Order mission just to get her out of the way.

"... and so you see," Hermione was summing up, "if we only had one opportunity to all mingle without fear of reproach I really do think it would be beneficial to school moral."

Harry felt a little ashamed for ignoring one of his best friends, but really it was her own fault. Hermione had been talking about her big plan to unite the Houses for days now.

She'd diligently informed them of her research into similar ideas from the past, the school rules on the subject and any precedents. She'd explained her intention to meet with the Head Girl and Boy, as well as representatives from each of the Houses, the four Professors in charge of the Houses and Dumbledore himself in order to explain her reasoning. She'd even reluctantly admitted to tentative talks with the House-elves.

Yet, throughout all of this she still refused to tell him and Ron what this great plan actually was. This, she claimed, was so that they wouldn't be disappointed were she to be told that she couldn't go ahead. Harry, remembering the early S.P.E.W. days, was of the opinion that anything which took more than one trip to the library to organise was unlikely to hold either his or Ron's attention for long.

Finally the photographer had roughly arranged them in height order, keeping the Houses together to Ron's delight and Hermione's disappointment.

"Don't worry too much if you can't see the camera," the photographer had announced, "you can always just peek around whoever's in front of you."

Taking the photos created great plumes of purple smoke over the lawn rather like a magical twist on an early morning mist. After what seemed like forever (Ron was beginning to get hungry again already) they were told that they were free to go and Harry escaped with plans to get started on the piles of homework he had somehow accumulated.

He had his second challenge from Tonks to prepare for, an essay for McGonagall, two new charms to practise (Tingling and Numbing Charms) and a 'Taking Care of My Jarvey' Journal to write. So far, this last item consisted of endless references to rude words, small bloody mammals and as many obscure hints to Malfoy as he and Ron dared include.

x

Despite Harry and Ron's best efforts with their homework the day before, their enthusiasm hadn't carried them through more than a couple of hours work and Hermione was trying to encourage them to finish their essays as they walked though the corridors back up to Gryffindor Tower.

"But we're Captain and Assistant Captain," Ron said pointedly. "And we're taking our responsibilities very seriously."

"We should really prepare for the first practise of the season," Harry added sensibly as they gave the Fat Lady the password ("tintinnabulate") and entered the portrait hole.

In the end, this was something that Hermione couldn't argue with and the pair collected their brooms and went out into the chilly but bright morning to do a few laps of the pitch before anyone else arrived. Seamus, who Harry thought had been looking a bit left out this term since Dean and Ginny had started spending a lot of time together, had come down to watch and was sporting a tall red and gold Gryffindor hat.

In their first Quidditch practise, Ron had hoped to try out some of Charlie's tips but he had still not received a reply to his letter yet. Ron seemed a bit put out but Harry was more worried than anything else. Charlie was in the Order. Had he been given an assignment related to the breakout? He decided it was probably best not to mention his fears to his best friend.

Ron and Harry worked well as a team, Ron having the ideas and directing, while Harry watched the results and suggested alterations. Cathy had indeed been picked for the team and Harry admitted that he was impressed by both her and Daniel. Thankfully there was not a single flip chart in sight.

The entire team was exhausted by dinner and trudged into The Great Hall to eat, still in their Quidditch uniforms. The teachers had all made a point of attending their meals with the students (something they rarely did at weekends) ever since the news of the Azkaban breakout had come on Friday morning. It seemed to reassure some of the younger students that they were not about to be attacked over their Shepherd's Pie.

However, this show of strength only made the absence of one teacher – Snape – all the more noticeable. He had not been at the head table on Saturday, had not taken part in the school photograph and was still not present by Sunday evening. Harry wasn't sure if Snape had left the castle or had just declined to join the rest of the school.

The Gryffindors in Snape's Potions classes all seemed to be in agreement that he was just avoiding having his over-long nose and greasy hair photographed, and speculated on whether he would still be too ashamed of his appearance to return for their lessons next week. One even joked that he'd been so embarrassed he'd gone to join the Death Eaters. This was generally considered to be in bad taste and the boy received disapproving looks from his Housemates.

Harry, however, wondered how far this was from the truth. He also wondered how many, if any, of the people around him knew of their Professor's former allegiances. He found thoughts of Snape meeting up with Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange wholly disconcerting and despite his dislike for the man, hoped that the Professor was safe and well in the castle somewhere, scowling vainly in front of a mirror.

x

To many students' disappointment, Snape was sitting in his usual position at the Head table when they surfaced for breakfast on Monday. As far as Harry could tell he was uninjured but from past experience Harry knew that the Professor was quite adept as hiding things like that.

"That's Charlie's owl," Ron pointed out.

Harry looked up to see a large owl with an impressive looking brown and black plumage. It swooped down and landed next to Ron, shook off a scroll of parchment, scooped up three pieces of Ron's bacon in its beak and took off again.

"Greedy thing," Ron muttered.

"Who's that from?" Seamus asked, leaning over to get a closer look.

"My brother, Charlie," Ron said as he helped himself to more bacon.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Hermione asked.

Ron shook his head as he swallowed a full mouth of bacon and scrambled egg. "Charlie always writes a six foot essay. I'll never have time to read it _and_ eat before lessons start. I'll just read it in Binns' class."

Hermione reached over and took the parchment off the table, stuffing it in her robe pocket.

"Oh no you don't. If you're too busy shovelling food down your throat to read it now then you'll just have to wait until break."

Ron groaned and rolled his eyes but didn't make any attempt to retrieve his letter.

"Fine. If I'm going to have to pay attention, can we at least get there early and get a seat at the back?"

This seemed to be a compromise and after their goodbyes to Harry they headed out of The Great Hall.

At break Harry, Hermione and Ron were joined out in the courtyard by Ginny. It was windy out and they were huddled together in a corner in an attempt to get some shelter from the gusts.

"Was that Charlie's Owl at breakfast? What did he say?"

"I don't know. I haven't been allowed to read it yet," Ron said with a pointed look to Hermione, who drew the scroll out of her pocket and handed it over.

Ron read the rather lengthy but animated letter out loud. When he reached the end he handed it to Ginny.

"So he's got a new girlfriend," she commented.

"Where does it say that?" Ron asked, looking confusedly at the letter.

"Here, look, she read: '_Went to the National Park last weekend to enjoy the last of the good weather._' See? Charlie never goes far from the Dragon Reserve on his days off without good reason. He likes to be on site in case there's an emergency or something. Besides, Charlie loves the winter. Ron, don't you remember when he was still at home and he'd stay outside building igloos in the snow until Mum dragged him in and cast warming spells on him? The only reason he would go away for the weekend is if he was trying to impress a new girlfriend."

"Well then what happened to the last one?" Ron puzzled.

"Who? The florist?" Ginny shook her head. "When will you boys learn? She was completely wrong for him. All she ever wanted to do was arrange flowers and play happy families. She didn't even like flying. You know what Charlie's like; he's far too adventurous to stay with somebody like that."

Hermione frowned. "So just because I don't like flying I'm going to end up with a complete bore?" she asked.

"No!" Ginny said, shaking her head. "Of course not. That's not what I meant. It's just that, well, that's Charlie's nature. He always ogles the pretty ones with Flobberworms for brains but they never last for long."

Ginny looked away with a small smile on her face, which made her look almost as dreamy as Luna.

"When Charlie really falls for someone it won't be because they worship him for being a _Brave Dragon Tamer_," she said. "It'll be someone who listens to his stories and wishes she could be up there flying with him, by his side, dodging the flames. Someone who can appreciate what he has to face and love him all the same."

Ron had wrinkled his nose whilst Ginny was talking but Hermione was smiling in a similarly dreamy fashion. Harry, however, found himself nodding in agreement. He hadn't really had much of a chance to get to know the second eldest Weasley son but what Ginny said had made a lot of sense and Charlie would be a fool not to see it eventually.

Dean came over and Ginny's dreamy expression faded as she was brought back into the real world and the couple said their goodbyes. Rather like the twins' red Owl, Charlie's letter had put Harry in a decidedly lighter mood as he went back into the castle for his next lesson.

x

Harry' first month back passed quickly, with more and more teachers piling ever longer homework assignments on them. They hadn't even had time to make use of the twins' care package. He and Ron had tried to keep their word to Hermione that they wouldn't leave everything to the last minute, but as she was doing six subjects she was kept busy enough herself with her own work that she didn't infringe too much on theirs.

The weather had forced people to dig out their gloves and scarves and the leaves on the trees on the Hogwarts grounds were turning golden brown and gathering in heaps on the ground, just waiting for a student to come along and kick them into the air. The first Hogsmeade weekend had been announced and school felt like a routine he'd never left.

They had all become accustomed to Tonks' often bizarre weekly challenges (the latest being to rescue a Kneazle from the top of the Astronomy Tower). No-one had quite worked up the courage to tell her what they thought their greatest strengths and weaknesses were so far, although Hermione would often ask Ron and Harry what they thought hers were.

Ron and Hermione's Prefect Duties didn't seem to be letting up and it felt to Harry like they were constantly attending meetings or patrolling the corridors. He had offered to keep them company once or twice but Hermione pointed out rather guiltily that she'd have to take points from Gryffindor if he did. Harry assumed she was putting in the extra effort in a bid to become Head Girl next year and that Ron had just been unwittingly dragged along for the ride.

They were out on Duty again one evening when Ginny received a late owl. A delivery outside of breakfast was an unusual enough event to catch the attention of most of the common room as Ginny unlatched the window and let Errol hop in from the window sill.

As she read, Ginny's face became quite pale until her freckles contrasted significantly with her skin. The letter contained a date for Percy's hearing, she told them. It was to be held in the Ministry building one day next week.

Harry immediately offered to search for Ron as Ginny was distracted and he really ought to be told.

Rushing back out of the portrait hole, Harry felt torn. He knew that the Weasleys, who were like family to him, were upset at the accusations against Percy, yet he couldn't stop his adrenalin rushing at the thought of using his invisibility cloak again. There was nothing quite like wandering through the empty corridors knowing that no-one could see him. Harry had been secretly hoping to use it to sneak into Snape's private Potions stock in the name of one of his Defence challenges but the need had not arisen yet.

Harry silently hurried along the corridor on the third floor making his way to the Prefect Common Room. Remembering the password that Ron had covertly given him against all the rules, he tapped the painting at just the right angle and the door swung silently open.

At first, Harry thought the room was empty. It was quite dark apart from the glow from the fire and a few scattered candles. He was just about to go back up to his room to fetch the Marauders' Map, which he's forgotten in his excitement, when he saw two figures in one of the darker corners, hidden in the shadows. He couldn't see who it was, but as long as they weren't Slytherins he decided they might tell him which part of the castle Ron was patrolling tonight.

He moved closer and was about to remove his cloak when he realised that the two figures were kissing. Both surprised and a little embarrassed, Harry started to creep quietly out of the room. He doubted very much that they wanted to be interrupted. He had hardly moved two steps when he stood on a floorboard which creaked underneath his feet. In the quiet it seemed intolerably loud. He turned quickly to see if the couple had heard him but they were evidently too concentrated on their own activities.

Harry was just about to turn towards the door again when something caught his eye. The candle in the far corner of the room had just flickered in the draft from the open door and, for an instant, spread light on something red... red hair in fact. Unable to turn away, Harry looked more closely and noticed that the other figure had rather fluffy brown hair. A sudden realisation dawned on him and he escaped from the room, not bothering to replace the painting behind him, and ran.

x

His mind was a whirl as he collapsed into one of the squashy sofas. Ron and Hermione. Hermione and Ron. Of course, it had been on the cards since their fourth year - since they'd had that blazing row after the Yule Ball - but so much time had passed since then with nothing happening that Harry had sort of become accustomed to their pre-relationship relationship.

But now things had changed. Harry wasn't really sure how he felt about it. His head was telling him that he was happy for them – after all, they'd obviously fancied each other for a while - but another part of him, located somewhere painful in his chest, told him that he was disappointed. He felt a bit left out and couldn't stop himself imagining lonely evenings when his friends would be off snogging somewhere whilst he sat doing homework or staring into thin air... rather like he was now.

But then Harry remembered the day that Ron and Hermione had got their Prefect's badges. He'd made an idiot of himself that day, ruining what should have been a happy time for them, and had felt rotten about it afterwards. He decided not to make the same mistake again.

After his first kiss with Cho, Harry had walked around in a bit of a daze with a goofy smile on his face. When Ron and Hermione returned in the same condition he would keep his chest quiet and let his head tell them how happy he was that they'd finally stopped dancing around each other.

Harry waited.

The common room started to empty around him and the sky darkened. At around quarter past ten his two best friends climbed through the portrait hole into the common room. They spotted Harry and made their way towards him.

But something strange was going on. Or rather... _nothing_ was. Neither of them were wearing silly grins and neither seemed to be in a happy daze. Surely they couldn't have had a fight _already_? No, that didn't fit; they looked perfectly friendly... That was it - they looked _friendly_, just as they had done for the past five years.

Maybe Harry's eyes had been playing tricks on him in the Prefect Common Room? No, that was ridiculous – he'd _seen_ them. Maybe it was two _other_ people... two other _Prefects_... who'd both taken Polyjuice Potion so they looked like Ron and Hermione? No, that was even more ridiculous – who would do that? Maybe the reason they didn't look like they'd just shared their first kiss was because it wasn't their first? No, that was the most ridi-

Harry blinked at his sudden realisation. What an idiot he'd been. His two best friends were going out and hadn't told him.

He shivered coldly but then began to warm quickly as his anger grew until it burned inside him. _More_ secrets. _More_ people keeping things from him. The bitterness resurfaced and all the upset and anger at losing Sirius churned in his stomach. Harry felt betrayed. This was far worse than last summer – at least then when they had avoided telling him anything it was for fear of their letters being intercepted. Now though, they just didn't want to include him. That hurt.

"Alright, mate?" Ron said. "I wouldn't sit too near that fire; you look like you're about to melt."

Harry nodded absently, not trusting himself to speak yet.

"Did you get that Charms essay done?" Hermione asked.

At this point her words weren't even making sense any more. It was as if she were speaking Mermish. He took a deep breath and took control of himself in preparation to speak calmly.

"So, how was Prefect Duty?" he forced himself to ask.

Hermione looked hesitant but Ron spoke straight away.

"Oh, you know. Quiet."

Harry raised an eyebrow and let his face slip into a scowl.

"Yes, I'm sure it was," he said flatly.

"I knew we didn't leave the door open," Hermione murmured to Ron. "Listen," she said turning back to Harry with a pleading look in her eye, "we were going to tell you but it just never seemed like the right time. When you arrived at The Burrow-"

"This has been going on since the summer?" Harry interrupted, almost spitting with rage.

Ron and Hermione stood wordlessly, shocked at his furious outburst.

"Well?" Harry yelled.

Fortunately, it was quite late and the only people left in the common room were three second years who obviously decided that they shouldn't be hearing this and left quickly to go to bed.

"Well?" Harry repeated even louder than the first time, making his throat sore.

Hermione threw a desperate look at Ron.

"Look," Ron started rather uncertainly, "it's not that big a deal. I mean, you must have known that-"

"Not that big a deal?" Harry shouted.

"I know you're probably a bit jealous-"

"Jealous?" Harry asked, his voice unusually high as he let out the sort of laugh he'd previously thought only mentally unstable people capable of. "You think I'm angry because I want to go out with Hermione?"

"Well, no... but... we're Prefects and I'm Quidditch Captain and we're, well, I've got a girlfriend... and you haven't. I mean, it makes sense that-"

Harry was no longer laughing. He'd got to his feet and was staring straight into Ron's eyes, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

"You, Ron," he said in a voice that surprised Harry by being powerfully calm and quiet, "were only made a Prefect because Dumbledore wanted to give _me_ a break. And if I remember rightly, McGonagall offered _me_ the Captaincy. And _I_ went out with Cho months before you even had a clue, so you can drop your superior, pitying act and bugger off 'cos you're nobody, Ron. You're worthless."

Something in Harry's guts didn't like the words that were coming out of his mouth but he seemed powerless to stop them. His ears refused to tune in to Hermione's furious objections and his eyes continued to bore a cold hole in his former best friend's.

Ron tore his eyes away, but not before Harry saw moisture beginning to well in them.

Triumphantly, Harry turned and climbed the stairs to his dorm before Ron could gather himself together then fell on top on his bed, quickly pulling the curtains around him. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

He'd won. He'd made Ron cry. So why did he feel like the bottom had just fallen out of his world?

x X x

**Next chapter**: A word on fate.

**More notes:** Just a quick note to say thanks for your reviews. Thanks to **Bernie Boosie** (hello again!), **Emmalee** and the reluctant** TheBlackDragon**. ; ) Do feel free to drop me a line. Any constructive criticism is welcomed and nice words are good too!


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